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THE 



OR, 


THE CHURCH OF CARTHAGE 

IN THE 

DAYS OF TERIULLIAN. 


TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH 
BY 

JOSEPH P. O’CONNELL, D.D. 

COPY HI 

APR 20 188.; ' 


No . 73?; 

)p> WASHIN^ 


^ WASHING 

New York : 

D. & J. SADLIER & CO., PUBLISHERS, 

31 Barclay Street. 

MONTREAL i 275 NOTRE DAME STREET. 


1881. 


.Aa .52 


t 

^imprimatur : 

•J* JOHN, BISHOP OF BROOKLYN. 




Copyright, 1881, by 
JOSEPH P. O’CONNELL, D.D. 



PREFACE. 


The mass of cheap trash that constantly floods 
the country proves how vast is the number of 
those who read as they walk or play — for amuse- 
ment. On the other hand, the dearth of serious, 
instructive, and really valuable books shows that 
but few seek solid information or apply them- 
selves to real study. It is said of Victor Hugo 
that he once replied to a person who compli- 
mented him on the success of one of his trage- 
dies : “ If the ‘people desire nonsense Til give it 
to them.” The depraved tastes of the multitude 
never lack a Hugo ; but, on the contrary, always 
find many and very ready caterers, and hence 
morality and religion almost invariably are made 
to suffer. The insatiable appetite for light and 
amusing reading craves and will have food, good 
or bad. Unfortunately, that generally offered is 
unwholesome, if not absolutely poisonous. That 
our repertory of light reading is very meagre and 
insufficient needs no better proof than that few 
Catholics make any scruple to sell, buy, or read 
3 


4 Preface . 

productions like those of Lever, Lover, Mar- 
ryat, and Scott. • 

Fully convinced, therefore, that a good, inte- 
resting, and instructive book is a boon and a trea- 
sure, I have devoted my leisure moments to the 
translation of this. That it deserves a place by 
the side of “Fabiola” and “Callista” has been 
decided by the unanimous verdict of Catholic 
France, and is substantially proved by the many 
editions through which it has run. 

The reverend author — once a vicar-general of 
the diocese of Rouen — has* most ingeniously in- 
serted in the course of the story the pith of three 
masterpieces of the great Tertullian — “On Fe- 
male Dress,” the “ Apologeticus, ” and his address 
“ To the Martyrs.” 

St. Perpetua, the heroine of the story, and St. 
Felicitas, the one a noblewoman and the other a 
slave, cannot fail to be doubly interesting to 
Catholics from the fact that they are both insert- 
ed and daily mentioned in the Canon of the Mass. 
What a beautiful idea and how indicative of the 
Catholic spirit of that Church which knows no 
distinction of bond or free , Jew or Gentile , to 
enroll and enshrine the patrician and the slave 
side by side in the very Canon of the Mass ! 

In our day and time, when so many weakly 
yield to the ordinary temptations and trials of 
everyday life and seem incapable of appreciating 
the glorious heritage of the faith, it may be well 
to show them even a single example of what our 


Preface. 5 

ancestors did and suffered to maintain and trans- 
mit that faith to us. 

The following extract from a letter to the pub- 
lisher will serve to show the opinion had of this 
book in France : 

<£ . . . I read the book when it was first pub- 
lished, and it left a lasting and very favorable 
impression on my mind. Now that a third edi- 
tion is about to be issued, I have, at your request, 
reread it carefully. The reperusal has confirmed 
my previous opinion. It is a good book ; the 
plan is happily conceived and well carried out. 
In imagery and language the style is appropriate, 
chaste, nervous, and dignified ; the tale is inter- 
esting, the plot skilfully managed, and the 
characters well defined. To its credit it may be 
said that it frequently reminds one of Cardinal 
Wiseman’s ‘ Fabiola.’ 

“ But its chief merit is that it is so eminently 
religious and moral. Every Christian family 
can accept it without hesitation ; the young can 
read it without danger to faith or morals ; it js a 
book which cannot be opened without experienc- 
ing a feeling of admiration and respect for that 
holy religion which can elevate souls and hearts 
to such an eminent degree of sanctity and hero- 
ism. 

u May you give us many such books as this ; 
by so doing you will merit the esteem and grati- 
tude of all good men and of all the friends of 
wholesome and instructive reading. 


6 Preface . 

u Permit me to congratulate you, and to sub- 
scribe myself, 

Your very humble and faithful servant, 
Lejeune, 

Hon. Canon and Professor of Theology in the 
Faculty of Rouen.” 

The translator desires to call attention to the 
fact that he has not followed the French in the 
magnificent extracts taken from the works and 
put into the mouth of Tertullian. He has gone 
back to the originals, and has given a far more 
nervous and literal translation than was given in 
the somewhat diluted French imitation. 

Brooklyn, Easter, 1881 . 



CONTENTS. 


CHAPT3R. PAGH5. 

I. The Message, 9 

II. Vivia’s Family, 31 

III. The Christian Slave, 44 

IY. The Vision, 67 

V. The Struggle and the Sacrifice, ... 84 

VI. The Plot, 100 

VII. Bishop Narcissus, ..... 116 

VIII. The Blood-Stained Veil, . . . .131 

IX. The Mountain Herdsman, .... 145 

X. Pagan Fanaticism, 159 

XI. The Christian Virgin, 169 

XII. The Revolt, 182 

XIII. The Pardon, 196 

XIV. Presentiments, 208 

XV. Falsehood and Temptation, .... 223 

XVI. The Christians to the Lions, . . . 242 

XVII. Hilarian and Angela, 257 

XVIIL Tertullian before the Senate, . . .273 

XIX. The Two Religions, 289 

XX. Angela’s Last Moments, .... 309 

XXI. The Two Interviews, 327 

XXII. The Trial, 347 

XXIII. The Baptism, 361 

XXIV. The Prison, 376 

XXV. The Visions, ...>••• 392 

XXVI. The Eve of the Combat, . . . .406 

XXVII. The Amphitheatre, 419 

XXVIII. The Anniversary, 434 

Appendix, 452 


7 













- 

. 

-■ 

* 




































V 




















































I 

























' - 




















* 









THE AFRICAN FABIOLA. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE MESSAGE. 

The sun was verging towards its setting; the 
evening breeze gently fanned the blue waters of 
the sea that laved the -proud and happy Carthage , 
after Rome the glory and pride of the world , as 
the ancients used to call it. After a day passed 
amid the occupations and fatigues of painful toil, 
the merchants and artisans strolled in groups 
along the wharves or among the rows of date, 
fig, and olive trees, which in that sandy soil 
bore such excellent fruit. Among the prome- 
naders some — and they were the majority — talked 
of trade, of the arrival of many and richly-laden 
vessels ; others discussed the news of the day — 
namely, that new religion, so mysterious in its 
tenets and austere in its practices, and which, 
after having seduced so many poor persons and 
slaves, after having defied for two hundred years 
all the efforts of science and all the power of 
9 



10 


The African Fabiola. 

the Csesars, was beginning to invade the wealth- 
iest families and the very senate itself. Some, 
oblivious of business and of the gods, recalled, in 
the ardor of their patriotism, the ancient grand- 
eur of Carthage, so long the formidable rival of 
Home ; they gloried in memories awakened by 
the names of Hannibal and Cannes, and cursed 
the luxuries of Capua, which had enervated their 
invincible legions, and the blush of shame suf- 
fused their brows at the recollection of Scijpio 
and Zama. 

At some distance above these animated groups 
there appeared a solitary pedestrian ; he wended 
his way slowly along the aqueduct, that stupend- 
ous marvel, which, from mountains forty miles 
distant, conveyed water to the city and the fort- 
ress of Byrza. This man was scarcely middle- 
aged, and was wrapped in an ample cloak, similar 
to those then usually worn by the philosophers. 
He appeared to be buried in deep thought. On 
seeing him one would naturally be led to think 
that, being a stranger to that nature which dis- 
played its glories above his head and under his 
feet, he saw only through the soul, that all tem- 
poral things were too petty and contemptible in 
his mind to bestow a single thought upon them. 
He was tall and well shaped ; his masculine and 
regular features wore that air of dignity which is 
the attribute of lofty virtue, of habitual self-com- 
mand, and profound thought ; yet one would have 
sought there in vain for that sweet calmness which 


The Message. 


11 


tempers dignity and makes it attractive. His 
broad forehead, already furrowed by deep wrink- 
les, bore all the marks of premature old age, and 
the locks which flowed on liis shoulders had be- 
come white long before their time. His penetrat- 
ing, flashing eye shot forth lightning glances full 
of the beauty and power of his genius ; occasion- 
ally these became gloomy and dark — ominous 
precursors of the dreadful tempests which raged 
in that fiery soul. Everything in this man seemed 
superior to human nature, for he seemed an ex- 
ceptional being, who had nothing in common with 
the ordinary weakness and frailty of men. And 
yet, on looking closer, one was impressed with a 
vague, unaccountable feeling of extremism, which, 
by instinct and temperament, narrowed the bound- 
aries of virtue, sought the purity of the angels 
among the children of Adam, the holiness of 
heaven in this world of misery and sin ; so that if 
this man should ever descend into the arena of 
controversy, he would be terrible, implacable, and 
would play with his opponents as the lion with 
the weak lamb. Another language would be 
necessary for his thoughts, another logic for his 
attacks, an eloquence altogether new for his genius, 
thunder-strokes for his wrath, irony hitherto un- 
known for his contempt, and for his ambition 
greatness and glory such as are not to be found 
in this world. This man was called Septimius 
A Lorens Tertullian , and, as he now appears before 
us, he was in about the fortieth year of his age. 


18 


The African Fabiola . 


Having reached the angle whence juts the prom- 
ontory of Carthage, he entered the city by the 
broad way which led to the citadel. On the right 
and on the left arose magnificent dwellings and 
sumptuous palaces, with swarms of slaves awaiting 
the arrival of their lordly masters, theatres and 
public baths built of costly and precious marbles, 
adorned with elegant sculpture and beautiful sta- 
tuary, bespoke this the quarter of the leading 
citizens ; here all the aristocracy of Carthage 
sought to dwell. Above the citadel appeared the 
imposing front and elegant brazen doors of the 
temple of Juno, the precincts of which had been 
more than once reddened with the blood of in- 
nocent victims. Within, this temple was said to 
have been a marvel of richness ; gold, precious 
stones, and other gifts of wealthy, designing, or 
ambitious pagans met the astonished gaze on 
every side. As if to insult the people who had 
conquered it, the city had spared nothing to make 
it a second capital. 

Tertullian, for so shall we call him in future, 
cast only a look of contempt on all this worldly 
magnificence. At the sight of the theatre his 
glance paused for a moment. As he thought of 
the shameful scenes which were there enacted, 
and which daily drew thither crowds of the dis- 
sipated and voluptuous, his face flushed with in- 
dignation and shame. Just as he was passing 
before the temple it so happened that the high- 
priest, still robed in his sacrificial trappings, was 


13 


The Message. 

slowly descending the steps, followed by some of 
his priestly attendants. Tertullian saw him ; he 
paused suddenly ; his whole frame shook and 
trembled convulsively, his face grew pale, dis- 
torted, and livid. He cast a withering, contempt- 
uous look upon the high-priest of the false gods, 
and, halting in front of the temple : “ Unclean 
divinities ! ” exclaimed he with clenched teeth, 
“ sacrilegious idols! how long will ye insult the 
Christ, my God ? When shall my eyes behold 
his cross lifted up radiant and triumphant over 
all these mutilated ruins ? ” Fortunately, he was 
not heard or understood by the liigli-priest, for 
a wave of the pontiff s hand would have been 
enough to have set his followers on the blas- 
phemer, to tear him to pieces, mayhap would have 
been the signal for a bloody persecution capable of 
devastating the metropolis and all the churches of 
Africa ! A few moments later Tertullian knocked 
at the door of a splendid mansion, which, at a 
later period, was destined to be converted into a 
magnificent basilica by the piety of the faithful. 
A Hubian slave admitted him. 

Recent in design, construction, arrangement, 
and ornamentation, this mansion was a model of 
elegance, splendor, and convenience. It had the 
portions, or porch, laid in beautiful marbles, the 
atrium , an open space, around which ran a row 
of alabaster columns, covered with foliage, birds, 
and beasts, that seemed to live and move under 
the magic chisel of the artist. The latest freaks 


14 The African Fabiola. 

of luxury and fashion, the richest gifts of the East, 
soft and beautiful carpets, lofty bronze candel- 
abra, busts, vases, tripods, paintings in all the 
glow of freshness of color, statues poised in their 
niches, tables of odoriferous woods brought from 
afar and transformed by Carthagenian skill into 
marvels of art, brilliant stuffs, Chinese silks, gold 
and silver embroideries, furniture fashioned by 
the hands of masters, beds of the most graceful 
designs and tastefully incrusted with ivory — 
everything had been collected together in this 
mansion to please the eye and to flatter vanity. 

In sultry climates like that of Carthage, where 
under a burning sun the heat of the day becomes 
oppressive, the effeminate children of wealth spare 
no expense to cool the atmosphere artificially, so 
that besides awnings, tapestries, and ample cur- 
tains which served to keep out the sun. and heat 
from the rooms, immense marble basins were con- 
structed in the centre of the halls and courts to 
receive the constant streams of fresh water which 
fell into them, day and night, in limpid jets and 
cooling showers. These fountains refreshed the 
air, pleased the ear by their sweet murmurs, and 
conveyed to the fatigued and enervated senses a 
feeling of vague tranquillity, which lulled into 
repose the indolent man, the delicate and dainty 
female. Such was the home now opened to Ter- 
tullian, who was immediately ushered into the 
presence of its mistress by a youthful female slave. 

Softly reclining on a couch, a young woman 


15 


The Message. 

held in her arms and silently contemplated with 
an ineffable smile of happiness a new-born infant 
asleep upon her bosom. So deeply was she buried 
in her sweet reveries that she took no heed of 
the stranger who stood before her. In the full 
flower of youth, in all the bloom of beauty, ren- 
dered more touching and heightened by the pallor 
of her face, consequent upon her recent sickness, 
one could easily see by her modest air that she be- 
longed to that new religion which not only puri- 
fied but at the same time ennobled the heart of 
woman. But being merely initiated, and as yet 
only imperfectly enlightened regardiug the spirit 
of that religion, although pure and chaste, she was 
far from that perfection which despises pomp and 
display; about her were scattered rich garments, 
mantles, costly veils, diamonds, jewels, gold and 
coral bracelets ; white necklaces blazing with bril- 
liants lay scattered on tables of porphory or sandal- 
wood. Hear the couch lay an infant’s cradle, 
which, judging by the ornaments and workman- 
ship, must have cost the mother sums which could 
have supported many a poor family. 

“ Yivia Perpetua — for I cannot call you sister, 
still less daughter — Yivia, do you know me \ ” 
Tertullian’s voice trembled witli emotion as he 
spoke. 

u O father ! why this severity ? ” replied the 
young woman, springing from her couch. “ How 
have I incurred your anger to be thus treated 
with a harshness of which I have as yet seen no 


1G 


The African Fabiola. 


example among the Christians, my new brethren ? 
Oh 1 dispel not the happiness which God lias given 
me, but increase it rather by blessing the happy 
mother and new-born infant.” She threw herself 
at his feet as she held up her child to him. 

“ May lie from whom all paternity derives its 
name , in heaven and on earth — may the Father 
of our Lord Jesus Christ bless you and this your 
little infant. Yivia, you ask why my speech is 
severe, why I call you not to-day by the name by 
which the priest loves to address the children of 
the true God. In your house my eyes discover 
only the luxury, the display, and the ornaments 
of a pagan mansion ! Look around you ! And 
it is here , forsooth, that you meditate on the holy 
law which you have vowed to embrace ! here it is 
that you study the life of the God wfTo came into 
this world to save you ! here that you worship 
and pray ! here, Yivia ! . . 

“Father, of a truth it is here I have lived all 
alone for nearly six months, since the departure 
of my noble husband, until my lonely seclusion 
was recently beautified and gladdened by the 
presence of this innocent and beloved infant ; 
here it is that I find happiness. in rehearsing the 
pious and holy instructions received from you 
and the venerated ministers of God. Believe the 
sincerity of your humble child. Here have I 
wept sweet tears of gratitude at the recollection 
of God’s goodness in having condescended to open 
my eyes to the light of the Gospel. The thought 


The Message. 


17 


of all that his beloved Son suffered for all men 
and for myself, in particular, is always present to 
my heart and that blessed spirit which I think 
you call by the name of angel, and which ever 
stands by my side, is my witness that I often bow 
my face into the dust to implore the grace of puri- 
fication in the saving waters of baptism, even had 
I to pay my blood to purchase the happiness of 
that mysterious regeneration ! ” 

“ Yivia, beware ; presumption, the daughter of 
pride, has seized your heart, and presumption 
leads to apostasy ; we have but too many proofs 
of this. Before having engaged in the struggle 
you proudly defy suffering and death ! Only see 
how you love riches, how you cling to ease, how 
you pride yourself and exult in your noble alli- 
ance with your husband, and then say if it re- 
quires a great deal to weaken and overcome the 
courage of a weak woman, of a young neophyte? 
And this child, in whom centre all your affec- 
tions, whose first smile, whose first lisp you already 
await with such impatience — this child, whom you 
seem to idolize — this child, if~. . .” 

i( Father, father, spare me ! crush not the frail 
creature who implores your compassion ! Oh ! 
this child is indeed dearer to me than all the world. 
At the bare thought of being separated from him 
my heart feels a pang of grief such as no language 
could express ; and yet, sooner than betray Christ, 
my Saviour, I would consent to leave this cher- 
ished infant an orphan on the world. If God 


18 


The African Fabiola. 


demands tlie sacrifice, he will give me, I hope, 
the strength and the will.” 

Her utterance gave way, and she fell back, pale 
and in tears, on the couch, convulsively clasping 
her infant to her bosom. 

The great soul of Tertullian could not help the 
betrayal of some emotion. Speedily mastering 
his feelings, as if condemning a weakness un- 
worthy of his character : 

“ Yivia,” said he, “ God forbid that I should 
doubt the truth of your protestations ; but, blind 
mortals as we are, we know not even that which 
takes place within ourselves, and the heart of man 
is an abyss full of terrible mysteries even to him- 
self. I am glad to be able to persuade myself that 
you have not forgotten your promises, that you 
continue to desire the grace of baptism, and that, 
in accordance to the instructions given you, you 
are preparing yourself for it by humble and fer- 
vent prayer. But if you have clearly understood 
the spirit of that holy religion which you seek to 
enter, why all this elaborate and scandalous super- 
fluity of raiment and ornaments, which Christian 
humility condemns and Christian modesty re- 
jects?* From the moment a woman has had 
the happiness of knowing the true God and the 
true history and condition of her sex, display and 
ostentation in dress should be carefully shunned. 

* Here and elsewhere throughout this work we make Ter- 
tullian quote his own words as often as he is introduced to the 
reader. The words here given are from his “ Treatise on Fe- 
male Dre^s.” 


The Message. 


19 


She should rather go about in humble garb and 
affect simplicity of attire, thus accompanying Eve, 
mourning and repentant, and even by her very 
garments expiating that which she inherits from 
Eve — the ignominy of the first sin and the odium 
that attached to her as the cause of human perdi- 
tion . "W oman was the first infringer of the divine 
law, and woman caused the fall of him whom 
Satan dared not to tempt. Yivia, the sentence 
of God on your sex lives in this age ; the guilt, 
of necessity, must live also. And because she 
brought about the ruin of God’s image, man, and 
the consequent introduction of death into the 
world, the Son of God himself had to suffer and 
die. In her exile from the fair bowers of Eden, 
where she had spent so many happy days, the 
sorrowing Eve contented herself with the coarse 
garment fashioned for her by God’s hand ; while 
you, her daughter, must needs have the soft 
fleeces of the Milesians, the silks of the Chinese, 
the purple of Tyre, the costly cloths of Babylon, 
gleaming pearls, flashing onyx-stones, gold wrung 
from the mines, and lying mirrors to flatter your 
vanity. Can it be possible that you have never 
reflected or did not know that all this vain dis- 
play is simply the funereal pomp of woman in 
her condemned and dead state, and that their dis- 
covery and use is to be attributed to Satan, the 
chief of fallen angels ? 

“ Since the light of grace has fallen on my soul 
—for 1 have not been born , but have become , a 


20 


The African Fab tola. 


Christian — I have read in our sacred books that 
the fallen angels allowed themselves to be en- 
snared by the seductive charms of the daughters 
of men. Hence those monstrous alliances which 
provoked God’s anger, and his regret at having 
broken his eternal repose by creation.* Less to 
repay the criminal enjoyment which they desired 
than to multiply the temptations which caused 
the weak to fall, these evil spirits revealed to 
woman the secrets which their cunning had dis- 
covered. They taught her the use she could make 
of the precious metals, the virtues of certain herbs, 
the advantages to be derived from the sheen of 
jewelry and gold in necklaces and bracelets, the 
art of dying wool in purple and other brilliant 
colors. They knew that all desires and wishes to 
please by corporal means and forms were an out- 
rage to God, an occasion of ruin and sin to their 
unwary victims. Yivia, such is the shameful 
origin of all this pomp and splendor to which 
you still cling. . . . And yet, if you are a Chris- 
tian, you and God will one day judge these fallen 
angels. How will you feel on your way up to 
the tribunal to pronounce eternal sentence on 
them ? How will you dare to condemn those 
whose gifts you prized and coveted \ 

“ Leave gold to its natural uses, and set not 
such value on what barbarians, wiser than we, de- 
spised so far as to forge into chains for their cap- 

*Tbis fallacy of Tertullian and other ancient writers regard- 
ing the “loves of the angels” for the daughters of the race 
of Cain has long been abandoned as absurd. 


The Message . 


21 


tives. Because these stones which you call preci- 
ous are rare, do they cease to be what nature made 
them — insignificant pebbles fashioned by the cap- 
rice and art of man, polished by dint of labor, cut 
by patient toil, to be hung on the ears of women 
foolish enough to plume themselves on this bor- 
rowed splendor ? Why, by an unnatural blending, 
seek to unite and mix colors separated by Almighty 
God? Is it not folly to adorn one’s self with 
pearls that have lain buried and unknown for 
ages at the bottom of the sea, which, after all, 
are but the slow product of a disease peculiar to 
sliell-fish ? 

“ I am aware, Yivia, of all that prejudice can 
oppose to these holy maxims ; in vain will you 
excuse yourself on the plea of rank, great wealth, 
early education. Reflect well that, before God, 
you and I and all men are but vile mites, miser- 
able sinners. We have forfeited the right of 
lifting up our heads ; our place is in the dust. 
The humblest of your slaves, if she has more 
virtue, is more exalted than you in the eyes of 
Him whose judgments are not formed from ex- 
ternal appearance and glitter. You would fain 
plead birth and nobility of lineage! But the 
Christ, whom you desire to serve, waited to be 
born until his Mother’s nobility had disappeared 
and was hidden under the- squalor of poverty. 
Her ancestors had been exalted and wore the 
kingly crown, but God caused the throne to crum- 
ble under their feet and the sceptre in their 


22 


The African Fabiola. 


hands; the descendants of the renowned and 
opulent Solomon had to earn their bread by the 
sweat of their brow. Christ spurned worldly 
greatness, and by so doing he branded it by his 
contempt and stigmatized it by his anathema ; 
and it is because he lived without glory, without 
pomp, without honors, that I hail and adore him 
as my Saviour and my God. 

“ W ill you tell me, Yivia, that the broad do- 
mains and the wealth in which you find so much 
self-satisfaction were bestowed on you to satisfy, 
at any cost, all the whims of your indolence, all 
the wild dreams of your vanity ? When God 
bestowed them so lavishly on you he had in view 
an object far more exalted than you have hitherto 
imagined ; he wished you to be the representa- 
tive of his providence. All around you are the 
poor, the first-born of his Church and kingdom, 
the living members of his Incarnate Son. Yivia, 
leave to pagan women all these vain ornaments, 
these costly trifles ; use your wealth nobly by 
giving bread to your hungry neighbor, raiment to 
suffering mothers and indigent children; redeem 
captives ; send assistance to our brethren who, for 
having openly confessed the faith, have been vio- 
lently stripped of their possessions. Your name 
will be blessed, and that of God still more, as 
by your hand he will heal many wounds and dry 
many secret tears.” 

In humble silence Yivia had listened to the 
grave and severe words of the Christian priest. 


23 


The Message. 

For the first time she felt ashamed of the luxu- 
rious life which she had hitherto led, and saw all 
the emptiness of the vanities which she had loved. 
But vanity, her life-long idol, soon rose to check 
this first impulse. 

“ Father,” said she, raising her head, “ I admire 
your virtues ; they are great like your faith, ex- 
alted and sublime like your genius ; but do you 
not exact too much from a weak woman who has 
but just been born to the new and austere life of 
the Christians ? Doubtless, my heart is not yet 
sufficiently detached from the cherished heirlooms 
of my ancestors; but from the moment I re- 
nounced the worship of idols I can truthfully say, 
unless I deceive myself, that my heart has admit- 
ted no reprehensible affection, and that I am in- 
duced to wear these ornaments by scarcely an- 
other motive than that of pleasing my noble hus- 
band and some few friends still left me in the 
world. Permit me to say, father, that at my 
age and in my position it would be unbecoming 
in me to clothe myself like one of my slaves. 
And, after all, is it not enough to preserve the 
heart pure and unsullied ?” 

“ What think you of me, blind woman?” ex- 
claimed Tertullian ; “ do you hope to deceive me 
as well as yourself ? Look into your heart, ex- 
amine it before God, for whom there are no mys- 
teries. Dupe not yourself : when you bedeck your- 
self with so much care you are influenced by a 
secret wish to please, to attract attention, and that 


24 


The African Fabiola. 


wish is not blameless. It springs from a bad 
principle, from the sin within us ; it contains a 
mighty peril, although you know it not — the re- 
suscitation of that terrible passion which is never 
entirely dead either in the heart or the senses. 
Why expose yourself to danger, Yivia ? Why 
brave the storm that may crush us % The man 
who has grown old amid warfare and mortification 
still trembles under hoary locks, and woe to him 
if he does not fear ! the precipice is near and the 
fall almost certain ! And you, in all the fervor 
of youth, in the very infancy of your faith, you 
who perhaps never yet mortified by the austeri- 
ties of penance your delicate and pampered body, 
you imagine that you, forsooth, are safe, and may 
walk unscathed on burning coals ! Insane and 
haughty presumption, that may one day cost you 
bitter tears! The foundation of salvation, the 
impenetrable buckler of salvation, is a wholesome 
diffidence in one’s self. 

“ Let us suppose for a moment that you have 
what you certainly have not — all the holiness and 
strength of an angel. Even in this case would it 
be lawful for you to glory in yourself? Christ has 
condemned vainglory ; he has forbidden it, and 
has made humility equally obligatory on virtue 
as on talent; and yet you deem yourself irrepre- 
liensible at tlfe very moment that you take pride 
in that body which, as you will soon be told by 
the Church, is moulded of clay and shall soon 
crumble into dust ! Ah ! Yivia, do not deceive 


The Message . 


25 


yourself thus as for myself, I know but one le- 
gitimate reason to be proud of the body : it is 
that it may be torn and tortured by the hand of 
the executioner, mutilated by the teeth of the 
wild beast in the amphitheatre, or be slowly con- 
sumed by fire for the name of Jesus Christ.” 

“ O father!” cried Yivia, “into what new 
world do you usher the young catechumen ? 
Never before even in the assemblies of the Chris- 
tians have I listened to such sublime lessons. My 
weakness stands appalled in their contemplation, 
and in spite of myself my heart taxes them with 
excessive severity. I again ask how can there be 
criminality or guilt when there is none in the 
heart ? ” 

“ Did they teach you also,” rejoined Tertullian, 
“ in these Christian assemblies to judge of the 
words of the priest according to your own wis- 
dom ? However, I will not allow myself to take 
umbrage at your obstinacy ; I pity your blind- 
ness. Your heart, as you allege, contains no guile ; 
is this also the case with those who gaze at and 
admire you tricked out in such elaborate finery ? 
One of our apostles has said that there are per- 
sons whose eyes are full of adultery and have no 
‘ peace in sin. Yivia, such persons are many ; in 
spite of the spread of our holy religion, we live 
in the midst of pagans, and they are all the slaves 
of voluptuousness. Even among our own breth- 
ren some are still weak ; do you wish to scandal- 
ize and make our neophytes totter to their ruin ? 


26 


The A frican Fabiola. 


Are yon not afraid that this worldly frippery 
may not fire the worst passions in the hearts of the 
pagans ? It- is not sufficient for us to fly evil ; 
total immunity from guilt requires that we* avoid 
being the occasion of sin in others. When we 
shall stand before God’s tribunal we must render 
an account of the souls lost through our fault. 

“In defiance of the laws, but of laws which 
are impotent, I see plainly that but slight shades 
of difference separate the so-called good and vir- 
tuous women from the hapless victims of public 
immorality. Both classes affect the same fash- 
ions, the same postures, the same proud and bold 
carriage. Both are insanely vain of their per- 
sons, employ the same means, or rather the same 
artifices, to attract the eyes of the public, same 
ornaments on their brazen foreheads, on their 
necks the same chains, on their shamelessly 
naked arms the same bracelets. I understand 
this similarity and uniformity of dress. Where 
is the pagan woman truly chaste ? Where is the 
young widow who does not occasionally call to 
mind that she lives in the city built by the ill- 
famed Dido ? Where is the young woman who 
does not know that among the divinities who 
claim her incense there is one whose very name 
we Christians cannot pronounce without loathing 
and horror? But, Yivia, you aspire to belong to 
Christ, the son of a spotless 'Virgin, and you can- 
not avoid guilt and live as do these women whose 
very religion favors, encourages, and deifies the 


The Message. 


27 


basest passions; it is more than enough to be 
obliged to breathe the same air and speak the 
same language that they do. 

“ The future is a book equally sealed to both 
of us ; God has not given me the power to read 
from its pages as he did to the favored prophets 
of old. Hitherto he has mercifully spared the 
great Church of Africa, and, while the blood of 
martyrs deluges less peaceful lands, we have had 
only days of quiet and contentment. But this 
long peace, I fear me, has enervated our hearts ; 
their restoration imperatively demands a conflict. 
The storm that has spared us until now may fall 
upon our heads at any moment if it should please 
God to blow it to our shores, and in such an 
eventuality it would be almost certain that you 
as well as I would be summoned to descend into 
the arena. Let the great day of martyrdom 
come. I ask you, Yivia, are those delicate arms 
ready to exchange bracelets for iron chains ? 
Will those feet, so daintily encased in embroi- 
dered slippers, permit themselves to be rudely 
thrust into gyves ? Will the broadsword find 
a place to smite that head so bejewelled or that 
neck so laden with strings of emeralds and 
pearls ? 

“Open, then, your eyes to the light while it 
is yet time ; do penance for the pasfij cast aside 
whatever clashes with the spirit of the faith you 
profess, renounce all this worldly display that you 
must certainly and solemnly do before you can 


28 


The African Fabiola. 


ever be permitted to receive the grace of bap- 
tism. Believe me, Yivia, the religion of Christ 
has abundance of ornaments incomparably more 
valuable than those you have heretofore esteem- 
ed. Let your countenance draw its whiteness 
from simplicity, its rosy tints from modesty ; 
paint your eyes with bashful ness and wreathe 
your lips with the sweet fragrance of silence. 
Let no barbarous trinkets disfigure your ears, but 
implant in them the word of God, infinitely 
purer and more precious than jewels and gold ; 
bow your head to the glorious and royal yoke 
of Jesus Christ. Clothe yourself with the silk 
of uprightness, the fine linen of holiness, the 
purple of modesty. Thus arrayed you will at- 
tract the eye and win the love of your God, and 
on the great day of resurrection an angel’s hand 
will single you out and lead you in triumph to 
the presence of Christ.” 

After her momentary flash of pride had passed 
away the young woman bent her eyes on the 
ground ; she felt as if crushed by the weight of 
such piercing and powerful words. She resem- 
bled the reed which at the first breath of the 
blast lifts its feeble stem, as if essaying to cope 
with the storm, but, being weak and feeble, it 
soon bends to the earth, and there lays until the 
storm has passed. With the skill and tact of an 
experienced combatant, Tertullian had watched 
the reflection of Yivia’s thoughts on her fair and 
open countenance, awaiting th^ proper moment 


29 


The Message . 

to strike tlie final blow and lay the victim pros- 
trate at the foot of the cross without giving her 
time to recover. 

u Yivia,” cried he, in a tone still more grave 
and dignified than before — “ Yivia, he who ad- 
dresses you is not Tertullian, the unworthy 
priest, the miserable sinner , but the representa- 
tive of the Church of Carthage, the messenger of 
our holy bishop, your father and mine. Do you 
remember the day when, on your knees and in 
the presence of a numerous congregation of the 
faithful, you begged him with tears to be initiat- 
ed in the religion of Christ, and to be prepared 
according to the usual course of instruction and 
probation prescribed for catechumens? A low 
murmur of joy and satisfaction ran through the 
assembly, and every eye was turned to heaven to 
thank God for his goodness and mercy. The 
saintly pontiff' told you, with deep feeling, how 
he rejoiced at opening the fold and adding one 
sheep more to the flock. His voice trembled as 
he stood before the altar and entoned the canticle 
of thanksgiving, which we all took up with such 
fervent gladness. Do you remember how, when 
you arose from your knees, so many venerable 
matrons, holy virgins, and spotless maidens 
crowded around you, calling you by the sweet 
name of sister, and embracing you with the kiss 
of peace ? Do you remember the joy and the 
tears of your mother as she clasped you to her 
bosom, kissed you, and told God that she had 


30 The African Fdbiola. 

lived long enough since her beloved child had 
now become a Christian 1 And still, Yivia, you 
have saddened the heart of the holy bishop, your 
father. The Church of Carthage has been scandal- 
ized, your pious mother is inconsolable, for it has 
been reported in the congregation of the faithful 
that you waver in your promises, that flesh and 
blood have regained their sway over you, and 
that, still a slave to ease and vanity, you design- 
edly postpone the day of your baptism. The pa- 
gans openly boast that you never have deserted 
their ranks, and that you will soon appear in their 
temples in the company of their wives and chil- 
dren. 

“ Vivia, reflect on the scandal you give ; en- 
grave on your heart the words which I am charged 
to bring to you from our venerated pontiff : 4 Let 
this woman do penance ; let her wipe out the bad 
example which she has given ; let her, by tramp- 
ling under foot all her pagan display and pomp, 
begin from this day to lead a live of humility and 
mortification.’ Yivia, I have delivered my mes- 
sage.” And Tertullian sped away, without even 
saluting the young woman, whom he left terrified 
and heart-broken. 



CHAPTER II. 
viyia’s family. 

Yiyia belonged to one of the oldest and noblest 
families of Carthage. On her mother’s side she 
reckoned among her ancestors the celebrated 
Hamilcar or Barca, who for five years struck Italy 
with terror and desolation, and saved his coun- 
try from the invasion of the fierce and warlike 
Numidians. Spain saw him landing boldly on 
her shores with a few small vessels, nor did he 
depart until he had conquered many tribes and 
laid the foundations of Barcelona, to which he had 
given his name. His fame, however, was destined 
to pale by reason of the renown achieved by one 
of his sons, the celebrated Hannibal, who when 
yet a child had sworn so implacable a hatred of 
the Romans that lapse of time only intensified it. 
He was a warrior as indefatigable as he was great 
and skilful ; he marched across the Pyrenees and 
the Alps, and fell like an avalanche on the fertile 
plains of Italy. Having been victorious on the 
banks of the Ticino and the Trebia, and later at 
Thrasymenus, at Cannse he crushed the Roman 
legions, commanded by Paulus Emilius and Yarro, 
31 


32 


The African Fabiola. 


and for a while the people-king trembled behind 
their walls. The enervating repose of the Car- 
thagian troops at Capua saved Rome ; Hannibal 
was recalled to Africa, was defeated at Zama, 
exiled to Carthage, and ended his days by poison 
to escape being surrendered to the Romans. 

Yivia’s father was a lineal descendant of the 
haughty and vindictive Hanno, the implacable 
enemy of Hannibal, of whose power he was jeal- 
ous. After long years of rivalry, which not un- 
frequently caused the shedding of blood, and 
menaced the peace of the entire city and the weal 
of the republic, the two families became united 
by marriage ; the grandson of Hanno took to wife 
the granddaughter of Hannibal, and thus these 
two powerful and hitherto unfriendly houses be- 
came allied and united. 

Hanno Yivius, at the time our story begins, 
was a hale old man, from sixty to sixty-five years 
of age. In his youth he had studied law and elo- 
cution. Gifted with talent and an extraordinary 
memory, he soon rose to prominence among his 
fellow-students ; but the ardent mind of the youth 
was not content with the honors of being a good 
speaker ; it seemed to him that the blood which 
coursed in his veins called him to higher aims ; 
it was not in a hall or the narrow limits of a de- 
bate that he could maintain the prestige* of his 
line or fittingly serve his country. Besides, the 
lawless hordes of Numidia menaced Carthage as 
they did in the days of Hamilcar ; swarms of pi- 


33 


Viva' s Family. 

rates from barbarian coasts preyed on their com- 
merce, made descents on their shores, massacred 
the old, enslaved the youth of both sexes, and 
vanished in their fleet barks laden with rich 
booty. He decided, therefore, to choose the 
profession of arms, and subsequently commanded 
many military and naval expeditions. He led 
this busy life for fifteen years, was always suc- 
cessful, was twice honored by a public triumph, 
and solemnly crowned in the principal temple of 
the capital. When the fatigues of war and his 
many wounds compelled him to retire into pri- 
vate life, the gratitude of his fellow-citizens fol- 
lowed and conferred upon him the highest offices 
of the magistracy. 

Hanno had not inherited the rancorous diposi- 
tions of his race ; he was frank, open, generous, 
and was every inch the soldier. At the head of 
armies his humanity and justice won for him the 
affection of his subalterns ; in the senate, where 
his birth entitled him to a seat, in the discharge of 
the weighty matters assigned to his management, 
he had shown fidelity to duty, impartiality i a soul 
superior to bribery, and love for the people. He 
was of a mild and easy disposition, was a tender 
husband and a loving father, and, although not 
entirely free from the prejudices of birth and po- 
sition, still his army of slaves had sufficient reason 
to be satisfied with him. These had only to do 
their duty faithfully, to be submissive, punctual 
in preparing his meals, punctilious in caring for 


34 


The African Fabiola. 


his favorite steeds, careful to keep his hunting 
implements ready and well furbished; this done, 
he was satisfied, and required nothing more of 
them. They were, therefore, well off for those 
times, when slaves were treated with such merci- 
less inhumanity ; when, for a slight fault, a trivial 
oversight, or because such was the will of a capri- 
cious owner, it was nothing unusual to have them 
whipped unmercifully until they were covered 
with wounds and blood. 

From his tenderest years in the camp, but espe- 
cially since his participation in the government 
of the city, Han no had often heard mention 
made of the new religion. He knew but very 
little about its tenets, he only picked up from 
public report that the Christians affected great 
austerity and retirement ; that they secretly met 
on certain days to celebrate their mysteries ; that 
they mutually gave assistance to each other in 
sickness and want ; and that, having been once 
initiated by certain immersions, they were no 
longer permitted to appear in the temples, or to 
assist at the public sacrifices ; that they held 
themselves bound to suffer patiently confiscation, 
exile, and even death, rather than acknowledge 
the gods of the nation. He had been informed, 
and was inclined to believe, that, under cloak of 
great moral purity, they perpetrated, in their 
secret assemblies and under cover of night, the 
most abominable crimes, such as fornication, 
adultery, and incest — nay, that they even butcher- 


35 


Viva? s 'Family. 

ed their children and feasted on their mangled 
limbs. Accordingly, Hanno despised and in- 
stinctively hated the Christians ; nevertheless, as 
they punctually paid their taxes, served faithfully 
in the army, and were useful citizens in their 
trades or professions, he leaned to the opinion 
that they ought not to be dealt with very rigor- 
ously, certainly that they should by no means be 
put to death. 

A man of this stamp could not well be a pro- 
fligate in the full force of the term. He would 
never consent, like so many of his friends, to vio- 
late his marriage vows, to insult the tears or hu- 
miliation of a dishonored wife by thrusting her 
aside to make way for a new and criminal alli- 
ance. lie took care that all his surroundings 
should bear the stamp of decency — a fact highly 
honorable to him in an age so deeply plunged in 
corruption. This morality, however, never went 
further than what was required by the exigencies 
of decorum . He loved society, visited his friends, 
and was a constant frequenter of the public baths, 
like all the aristocracy of the city. In his morals 
he was no rigorist ; his conversation was jovial, 
and for very good reasons he was exceedingly 
lenient to what he called the levities of youth. 
Nor could it be ascribed to calumny that he bore 
the reputation of being a lover of gaming and 
good cheer. All this put together will give a 
pretty faithful outline of what Yivia’s father 
was. 


36 


The African FaMola. 


Although brought up in paganism, her mother 
soon manifested a sincere hatred for vice. From 
hertenderest years Julia — for such was her name 
— was cited as a model of mildness, modesty, and 
virtue. The licentiousness which sat enthroned 
in the temples, which was unblushingly paraded 
on the stage, and pervaded every conversation, 
inspired her with an indescribable disgust that 
protected her youth against the allurements of the 
world. She felt, as if by instinct, that reserve 
and modesty should be the distinguishing attri- 
butes of womanhood ; that in youth she should 
live hidden under the protecting wing of a pious 
and prudent mother ; that as soon as she became 
free she should watch over her heart, see to the 
proper government of her home and children, and, 
by kind affection, render herself the pleasing com- 
panion of her husband. Accordingly, she always 
shunned the society of those of her own age in 
whom she discovered levity of character or a 
taste for boisterous amusements. Being rich, 
talented, and beautiful, she could have had a 
whole host of admirers; this was then the cus- 
tom; but she appeared in the. family circle only 
at meal times, answered curtly and always with 
gravity the questions addressed to her, and lost no 
time in returning to her apartments, to continue, 
with her slave, her needle-work or to amuse her- 
self with her music and harp. Such a cause soon 
discouraged and drove away, one after another, 
all the young triflers and idlers who sought to 


37 


VircC stFamily. 

please but only annoyed her by their artful pro- 
testations and flattery. 

Julia saw but very little of her father. All 
her affections had been centred in her mother and 
an orphan cousin ten years her junior. She had 
watched over her cradle and had kindly lent her- 
self to be her companion in all her childish games. 
She used to dry iier tears, console her in her brief 
trouble, and thus her affection for the child grew 
until she could not bear the least separation from 
her. They shared the same room by day, the 
same chamber by night. Whenever Julia stroll- 
ed into the country or along the seashore Pota- 
miena — for so the orphan was called — was her in- 
separable companion ; hand in hand they thread- 
ed the streets of Carthage, followed by the old 
female slave who had charge of them. Their 
mothers smiled upon and admired this mutual 
attachment. One day, however, Julia returned, 
or rather was brought, home alone ! Potamiena, 
the beloved orphan, the dear little sister , had 
disappeared, and no one ever again heard any- 
thing about her. Julia’s grief was so great that 
for many months her health gave cause for anxie- 
ty. She wished to live for her mother’s sake, for 
she was her only consolation. Nevertheless, she 
never ceased to weep for her lost friend. More 
than twenty years had elapsed since this terrible 
misfortune had happened, and yet whenever she 
heard Potamiena’s name tears filled her eyes. 

In obedience to her mother’s wish, in her sev- 


38 


The A frican Fabiola. 


enteentli year slie became the wife of Hanno 
Yivius, who bestowed upon her an immense 
fortune, an honored name, brilliant qualities, a 
loyal and devoted heart. Her own wealth being 
even greater than that of her husband, she felt 
in duty bound to put her house on a footing 
equal to that of the most opulent in Carthage, 
and, thanks to the judicious taste of Hanno, her 
mansion soon became the centre of attraction for 
the aristocracy of the entire city. She did the 
honors with the tact and affability which she had 
acquired by her training and the rule of life 
which she had marked out for herself. Ere long 
these frequent and merry reunions became a 
source of pain to the virtuous Julia. They 
shocked her sense of delicacy, for it was the 
ambition of each one to prove himself in advance 
of his fellows in the knowledge of fashionable 
worldliness, vice, and scandals ; in them but lit- 
tle was to be heard regarding subjects of national 
interest or morality; much about pleasure and 
intrigue, while occasionally objects the most 
sacred were made the subject of pleasantry and 
ridicule. Julia could never accustom herself to 
join in conversations which always smacked of 
levity, and from the time she became a mother 
she ceased to appear at these reunions, alleging 
as an excuse her duty to her children, which she 
could not, she said, permit to devolve on merce- 
nary hands. Hanno was not deceived as to the 
real motive of this conduct ; Iiq did not wish to 


39 


Viva’ s Family. 

pain the wife he loved ; even among friends lie 
gayly and playfully undertook to excuse and de- 
fend her conduct. 

Being now free and all absorbed in the man- 
agement of her domestic affairs, in superintend- 
ing her numerous slaves, and in attending to the 
due administration of her monetary interests, 
neglected by the carelessness of Hanno, Julia 
still found time to satisfy her own generous im 
pulses. Very different from others in her station, 
who think only of enjoyment, and forget the 
wants of the poor, she was never happier than 
when she found an opportunity of assisting the 
needy. Before she came to the knowledge of 
Christianity, she practised one of its greatest vir- 
tues, and there can be little doubt that she was 
indebted to her munificent liberality to the poor 
for the happiness of finding and embracing at a 
later period that heaven-born religion which 
placed charity at the head of her precepts — 
charity which was unknown to the pagan world, 
and reckoned as a weakness by her philosophers. 
She bestowed especial care on widows- and or- 
phans, and from every quarter of the city the 
indigent flocked to her for relief. She had the 
gift of enhancing the value of her gifts by the 
kind and cheerful manner observed in bestowing 
them ; she had always a kind word to soothe the 
heart at the same time that she bountifully sup- 
plied the means of appeasing hunger. 

Julia gave birth to several children, all of 


40 


The African Fabiola. 


whom sko herself nursed. Two of them had 
died in the cradle, a third had been taken away 
at the age of seven, his face having been fright- 
fully eaten away by a horrible cancer. She bit- 
terly wept over this child, who had caused her 
such care and long watching, and she often 
bathed with her tears the splendid monument 
which she raised to his memory. Poor mother ! 
she yet ignored the sweet consolation of prayer, 
which calms the most poignant grief and whis- 
pers to the heart the mysterious words of hope ! 
She knew not then that she would one day find 
in God’s bosom and in all the glory of immorta- 
lity the idolized child torn from her affections by 
a cruel disease. As yet she could only commune 
with his shade , which she was taught to believe 
wandered around his tomb, she felt desolate 
and broken-hearted as she turned away after 
having repeated the eternal farewell of the pa- 
gans. 

And yet in all the bitterness of her grief 
Julia never once forgot that three children still 
remained to her who also had sacred claims upon 
her affections — two sons in their boyhood, both 
of whom had made their mark in the most cele- 
brated schools of Carthage, and a daughter, a lit- 
tle the senior of both, and who, in more ways 
than one, was the living image of her mother. 
She was affectionate and obedient, very much 
attached to her brothers, and was especially 
remarkable for great kindness to the slaves ap- 


Viva’s Family. 


41 


pointed to wait on lier. She was ever ready to 
assist them in their tasks, visited and even tend- 
ed them during their fits of sickness. If she ever 
happened, in a moment of impatience, to treat 
them harshly, her good nature soon returned, 
and she hastened to make amends for her con- 
duct by giving them presents and caresses. 

The reader has already guessed, no doubt, that 
this was Yivia of whom we have been speaking. 
And yet, notwithstanding all we have said, 
Yivia had more faults than one. Being extreme- 
ly sensitive, the slightest contradiction irritated 
her ; but her resentment was short-lived and de- 
void of rancor. Her great and versatile talents 
had developed in her at a very early age the 
germ of self-love. She liked to display her ac- 
complishments in conversation, where she could 
give loose rein to her teeming imagination ; she 
was a pleasing conversationalist, and when she 
broached a historical question or an important 
subject her hearers continued to listen even after 
she had ceased speaking. These, indeed, were 
the topics which won her preference ; she knew 
she would here command admiration, and praise 
was by no means a matter of indifference to her. 
Her character was somewhat wavering and irreso- 
lute ; her will lacked energy. Occasionally she 
did show resolution, almost enthusiasm ; then 
she appeared capable of making great sacrifices ; 
but the fire soon died away, and then, as if a re- 
action had taken place, after a violent effort or too 


42 


The African Fabiola. 


great a strain, she relapsed into her usual indeci- 
sion. Her mother did everything in her power 
to remedy these detects; her anxiety became 
alarmed at the thought of the consequences that 
might possibly arise therefrom in after-life ; but 
all her wisdom and advice had proved abortive. 
Vivia listened, candidly avowed her failings, and 
promised amendment. But this demanded some- 
thing more than her own reflections and the de- 
sire to please her mother : she lacked a super- 
natural motive, and this her religion could not 
give her. 

Unhappily for her, nature, too, had lavished all 
her gilts upon her. To nobility of birth, re- 
markable talents, wit, and a flow of language 
she joined uncommon beauty, rendered still more 
captivating by a dreamy air full of languor and 
expression. All Carthage talked of her ; even 
her very father never lost an opportunity of 
praising her, even to her face. Much less would 
have been sufficient to inspire her with vanity ; 
and so, from her fourteenth year, she made it a 
study — I should rather say a labor — to improve 
her personal appearance and attractiveness by all 
the adjuncts of adornment and dress. Covered 
with diamonds and precious stones, she shone ra- 
diant in the blaze of costly necklaces and brace- 
lets : her dresses were of the costliest materials, 
and dazzled the eye by a display of the richest 
and most beautiful embroidery in gold and silver. 
Let it be said, however, to her praise, and in the 


Viva's Family . 


48 


interest of truth, that her moral conduct was ir- 
reproachably pure. 

Such was the family of Vivia, when an event 
that could not have been foreseen occurred and 
radically changed the internal status of this fa- 
mily, with whose habits and character we have 
ust been made acquainted. 






CHAPTER III. 

THE CHRISTIAN SLAVE. 

Among the slaves given by her mother to Julia 
at the time of her marriage to Hanno was one 
named Rufina, who was about the same age as 
her young mistress. The fairness of her com- 
plexion showed plainly enough that she belonged 
to no African race, but was sprung from someone 
of the tribes that dwell in the mild climate of 
Europe. Always grave and pensive, she was ever 
respectful to her superiors and affable to her 
equals, yet she never shared in their merrymak- 
ings and wanton dances. Whenever her occu- 
pations allowed her a few moments of liberty, she 
either retired to her humble chamber or strolled 
alone in some solitary walk in the garden. Oc- 
casionally she would be heard singing in some 
unknown tongue, and though the listeners under- 
stood not the refrain, the air affected them singu- 
larly ; there was something so sweet in the 
voice, so touching and melancholy in the tone ! 
They who heard paused to listen until tears 
came, as they invariably did, and put an end to 
those weird melodies. On certain days she as- 

44 


The Christian Slave. 


45 


samed a more animated and lively strain ; but 
such days were few, and she speedily relapsed into 
her habitual melancholy. As may be easily ima- 
gined, the curiosity of her companions was aroused 
in no small degree, and each of them had formed 
her own commentaiy. “ She is a hypocrite,” 
cried one. “ Just think, at her age people natural- 
ly love enjoyment and dancing ; in every climate 
youth laughs and skips, and still, no matter how 
we try, we have never yet been able to induce her 
to join us in our amusements. By this affected 
gravity she flatters herself, of course, that she will 
ingratiate herself into the good graces of our se- 
date mistress, and it must be acknowledged that 
in this she has succeeded but too well already.” 

“ Perhaps,” said another, “ she is some great 
princess, the daughter of some barbarian king, 
reduced to slavery by some unlucky accident. 
Her pride is wounded, and she feels humiliated 
in our society and in the performance of the tasks 
which she has to share with us. I have seen her 
refuse more than once the presents offered to 
her.” 

“ I have heard it said,” rejoined a third, who 
loved to play the blue-stocking, “ that some- 
where away beyond the sea there exists a custom 
of initiating young women in a mysterious life of 
contemplation and reverie. They do not wed or 
live in cities, but wander in forests or retire to 
some solitary island. They are a kind of pro- 
phetesses or sibyls, are summoned to the conn- 


46 


The African Fabiola. 

cil of the king, are the sovereign arbitresses of 
peace and war, and when the battle is raging a pro- 
phetic frenzy seizes them and they intone magic 
songs to infuse their own maddened spirit into 
the souls of the combatants. I have strong sus- 
picions that Rufina was formerly one of these 
women, so highly esteemed among barbarous 
tribes, and that she disappointed the hopes of 
some prince or chief, and was in consequence de- 
prived of liberty and sold as a slave.” 

“ In my opinion,” broke in a swarthy old 
crone, whose features wore all the evil traces usu- 
ally furrowed by envy and hate, “ I have found 
out the secret of her moping ways. Rufina may 
be a hypocrite, as you say, and I do not doubt it, 
but I have my reasons for believing that it is at 
our cost that she gradually wriggles herself into 
the confidence of our young mistress. I do not 
trust her sweet ways more than I would the 
fawning of a young tiger. I have carefully 
watched all her movements on the sly, and I can 
assure you her sadness is no longer a mystery to 
me. The chaste Rufina has simply opened her 
heart to the amorous pleadings of love. I am 
sure of what I say, and I even know the person. 
He is a slave like herself, and his name is Revo- 
catus. You may have seen him yourselves, for 
his master often sends him to ours on errands. 
Only hear me out, and you will become as con- 
vinced as I am. 

“ First of all, judging by his color, Revoca- 


The Christian Slave. 


47 


tus and she must be from the same or a neigh- 
boring country. I saw them both when they 
came to Carthage, and they arrived at the same 
time. Afterwards I found out that when they 
were put up for sale they earnestly entreated to 
be disposed of to the same purchaser or master, 
and when this was refused she became so en- 
raged that she could not restrain her lamenta- 
tions and tears. Although he commanded his 
feelings better, still he betrayed great mortifica- 
tion at the separation. Yery often, while our 
pensive Rufina is singing at the end of the gar- 
den in that gibberish that nobody can under- 
stand, I see Revocatus creeping along the wall 
outside until he gets to a place where he can 
stop and listen to her. In all probability those 
airs, that seem so melodious and weirdly sad to 
us, are the love-songs of her country, and convey 
to him her sorrow at not being able to be his 
bride. Having set myself on their track, I re- 
doubled my watchfulness, until I finally detected 
them in their interviews and heard them convers- 
ing in their unintelligible language. Their inter- 
views are always pretty long ; they seem to be 
constantly discussing some very interesting sub- 
ject — no doubt some plan or other to regain their 
liberty, to escape from their owners, perhaps in 
order to be able to love and live together.” 

Such were the judgments passed on the young 
foreigner, who had not the slightest suspicion of 
what was being said of her. Entirely absorbed 


48 


The African Fabiola. 


in the performance of her duties, she did not 
seem to notice even the cutting remarks, the sly 
hints, and open rebukes of her companions. In- 
variably full of kindness and consideration for 
them, she never lost an opportunity of pleading 
in their behalf, and her winning ways often 
spared them from the reprimands and punish- 
ment which they frequently deserved. This 
generosity, instead of mollifying, only embittered 
them the more, so they resolved to compass her 
ruin in the estimation of their mistress. The 
old n egress’s revelations were, therefore, very 
well timed. Accordingly, they all went in a 
body and accused Rufina of holding secret and 
frequent interviews with Revocatus. This they 
did, as they averred, because, “ for the honor of 
the house, it was high time to put a stop to such 
an intrigue.” 

Ever since her mother had made her a present 
of Rufina, Julia had never ceased to remark, 
and had always admired, the gentleness and de- 
votedness of her slave. Her retiring ways, her 
modesty, that constant melancholy which gave an 
indescribable charm to her person and voice, all 
united in interesting her mistress in her favor. 
In the course of time Julia had placed implicit 
confidence in her ; she usually kept her in her 
apartments to enjoy her company and conversa- 
tion, and treated her more like a daughter than a 
slave. The accusation was a grave one, adroitly 
planned and strongly corroborated by all the 


The Christian Slave. 


49 


slaves, who unanimously asserted that they had 
seen , certainly and surely seen , all that the old 
crone had previously related. The accusation, 
therefore, fell on Julia like a thunder-clap, and 
her first impulse was to hand her slave over to 
Hanno, to be punished as severely as the cruel 
laws of the times would permit. Luckily she 
did not act upon the impulse. It would be more 
just, she reflected, to question her and hear what 
she had to say. In spite of appearances, might 
she not, after all, be innocent ? She summoned 
her to her presence. When they were alone : 

Rufina,” said she, “ why have you deceived 
me \ Have I not been always kind to you ? I 
grieved for your unhappy lot, and strived to ren- 
der it less painful. I had confidence in you, and 
you know it ; I permitted you alone to have 
charge over my very children as often as I was 
called away by other occupations. I imagined 
that you were devoted and virtuous, and you have 
deceived and betrayed me ! ” 

u Kind mistress, truly you have been good, too 
good to me, and my gratitude to you will last as 
long as life ; but, alas ! what can a poor slave do ? 
All her blood poured out to the last drop for you 
would be but insufficient payment for such a 
debt ! But I to deceive you ! I to betray you ! 
oh ! never, never ! ” And her eyes, overflowing 
with tears, were lifted to the face of the noble 
lady. 

“ Tell me, then, Rufina, what mean those mys- 


50 


The African Fabiola. 


terious songs in which you occasionally give utter- 
ance to your thoughts and feelings ? They pleased 
me even though I understood not their import ; 
hence I have frequently asked you to sing them to 
me, or to hum them over the cradle of my children. 
Whenever I heard them I invariably experienced 
a strange feeling, which even now I cannot ac- 
count for. What, then, is this poetry ? Is not 
magic its soul, or rather, as I am more inclined 
to think, is it only the ardent, impassioned ex- 
pression of these tender sentiments to which I 
had imagined you a total stranger ; for, I once 
more repeat, I had faith in your virtue ? ” 

“ Noble mistress, believe the word of your 
humble slave ; what I sing are no weird songs. 
How could I, a poor unlettered female, have 
been able to study that mysterious science of 
which I had never even heard until I came hith- 
er ? Still less are they calculated to convey the 
sentiments to which yon alluded just now. Pos- 
sessing nothing, and destined to remain, in all 
probability, in slavery as long as I live, on what 
object could I possibly bestow the affections of 
my heart ? 1 am but too well aware that I could 
not dispose of it without guilt, I am your slave, 
I belong to you whole and entire ; my life itself 
is in your hands. My whole ambition is not to 
displease you, and I am but too happy when I 
succeed. In obedience to you and to while away 
the leisure moments allowed me by your kind- 
ness, I have been accustomed to sing those airs ; 


The Christian Slave. 


51 


they are those of fatherland ; ray mother sang 
them by ray cradle as I did by that of your fair 
children. They are the only goods, the sole trea- 
sure, brought by me when I landed in your coun- 
try. Save the happiness of serving you, they are 
my only consolation. But, if such be your plea- 
sure, my lips shall utter them no more, and in 
future I shall commune in silence with my own 
thoughts and memories.” 

There was so much candor and meekness in 
these words that Julia felt herself deeply moved 
and sorry for having reproached her so cruelly. 
Could such qualities co-exist in the heart with 
deceit, hypocrisy, and the guilt of which she 
stood accused ? She determined, however, to 
find out the whole truth, were it only to con- 
found the jealousy of her slaves. With this de- 
sign she assumed a milder tone, and said : 

“ Rufina, you are acquainted with a slave named 
Revocatus, who comes hither occasionally to do 
his master’ s errands. Is it true that he stops to 
speak with you in private, and prolongs his inter- 
views beyond the bounds of propriety ? I do not 
wish to be rash in giving credence to evil reports, 
but such conduct is calculated to ruin you. What 
motive or reason can you have for thus making 
yourself an object of derision to your fellow-ser- 
vants and of my husband’s resentment in case of 
discovery ? Rufina, take my advice, shun this 
Revocatus, about whose moral character I know 
absolutely nothing.” 


52 


The African Fabiola. 


“ Kind mistress mine, I am ready to make 
the sacrifice you demand, and should deem my- 
self culpable were I to disobey or displease you ; 
but if you would condescend to allow your lowly 
slave to defend herself in your eyes, I would say 
that this Kevocatus has been my friend from 
childhood and the companion of my earliest years. 
The same day and country witnessed our birth, 
one roof sheltered our cradle, one breast suckled 
us both ; we lived and grew up together in the 
fond hope that death alone could, but liaply that 
even that would not, separate us. Sweet dream, 
doomed to be dispelled, alas ! even in our early 
youth ! O noble mistress ! ” continued she as she 
cast herself in tears at Julia’s feet, “Kevocatus, 
whom I must see no more in obedience to your 
commands, is the child of my poor mother ; she 
bore us together in her bosom, and together 
ushered us into the world. Had you but conde- 
scended to notice him you could not have failed to 
remark how we resemble each other ; this is so 
evident that people always note it, and asshrt 
they never before saw anything like it between 
brothers and sisters, or even twins such as we 
are.” 

“Arise, Kufina,” exclaimed the noble lady, 
giving her hand to Kufina, who covered it with 
kisses — “ arise, you are a noble girl. I believe 
you are innocent ; forgive me for my momentary 
suspicions and the pain I have given you. From 
this day I shall look upon you no longer as a 


The Christian Slave. 


53 


slave. Be my companion ; aid me to bring np 
my children ; you love them, and they return 
your affection. My Vivia especially cares only 
for her mother and you. You have been so kind 
to her always — in sickness you never leave her 
for a moment ; you can rely on her and my grati- 
tude. Go meet your brother often ; speak with 
him when and where you please ; my pleasure is 
that you do so without hindrance or molestation. 
As for your wicked traducers, they have deserved 
punishment, and it shall be meted out to them 
this very day.” 

£ ‘ Blessings on your head, noble mistress ; I am 
now happy indeed, since you believe in my inno- 
cence and permit me to see my fond brother. 
My late sad misfortune is no longer a cause for 
grief ; my condition, heretofore so irksome, is 
now become so pleasant that I shall love it for 
the future. You have assured me of your confi- 
dence, and you have had the condescension to 
approve of Yivia’s affection for me. Be pleased 
to permit me to add, however, that there is one 
thing wanting to all your favors of this happy 
day, this is forgiveness for my companions; I 
beg it on my knees. They never dreamed of 
doing any harm, no doubt ; appearances deceived 
them, and they were actuated only by zeal for 
the honor of your house. Pardon them, then, I 
beseech you, and never let them know that my 
entreaties obtained their forgiveness.” 

“ Generous girl, how can I refuse ? Who taught 


54 


The African Fabiola. 


you so well the way to my heart ? At what school 
have you learned lessons so exalted and marvel- 
lous that, though I admire, I can never hope to 
put them in practice ? What ! your companions, 
in their jealousy at my preference for you, lay an 
infamous plot to accomplish the ruin of one who 
never did them an injury ; they plan and prefer 
against you a charge of such a nature as to have 
brought terrible punishment upon you, and yet 
you beg on your knees that they be pardoned ! 
Wonderful maiden, what a strange philosophy is 
this of your country ! Say, say, what is the name 
of your people. Give me your history ; unravel 
the deep mystery in which you have hitherto 
shrouded yourself.” 

“ My history, noble lady, contains nothing 
Worthy of interest for a mind so exalted as yours ; 
it is the history of a hapless and obscure person 
who passes unnoticed and unknown in the world, 
and is forgotten as soon as she has disappeared. 
Judging by my long voyage to Carthage, where 
the unforeseen happiness of serving you awaited 
me, my native land must be far, very far away ; 
but what matters the distance to me, since I may 
never again behold it ? I was born in the most 
remote part of Gaul, hard by the straits that sepa- 
rate it from the British Islands, whither Caesar, it 
is said, carried his victorious arms after he had 
conquered my country. All that I have ever 
heard of my ancestors is that the Romans called 
them barbaricms ; why, I know not, unless it be 


The Christian Slave. 


55 


that the Gauls won many battles against them, 
and planted their standards on their proud capi- 
tol. Being an old soldier, my father used often 
to tell Revocatus and myself of the courage and 
warlike deeds of the Gauls ; but I was too young 
to understand all he said, and since I have for- 
gotten them. My mother used to interest us 
with subjects that pleased me far more ; of these 
I have retained a more vivid recollection. 

u I was only ten years old when my father died, 
nor had I the consolation of being "near him at his 
last moments. Having faithfully clung to a 
cause which he deemed noble and holy, he was 
loaded with chains, dragged from our home, and 
a few days after was put to death by the sword of 
the executioner. 

“ Being poor, and encumbered by her two 
helpless children, my widowed mother worked 
hard to support us by her labor and the produce 
of a small plot of ground tilled for her by her 
compassionate neighbors. Five years after she 
went to rejoin in a better world him whom she 
had never ceased to mourn ; labor and sorrow had 
worn her away prematurely. Our grief was 
bitter and deep ; at the age of fifteen we became 
orphans without other support than the little plot 
of land and a poor cottage, our tenure of which 
was soon threatened by merciless creditors. As 
we had no one to help us, no influential friend to 
protect us, we were cruelly stripped of everything 
and driven from our little patrimony, which would 


56 


The African Fabiola. 


have satisfied my desires and all my brother’s 
ambition. In this manner were we forced to bid 
a tearful adieu to the tomb of our mother and to 
the cottage that had sheltered' our childhood. But 
our misfortunes were not to end even then ; as 
the land and cottage did not realize a sufficiency, 
we were compelled to forfeit our liberty in order 
to liquidate the debt ; this was in accoi dance to 
the laws of my country. 

“We were put on board a ship bound for the 
coast of Africa. The voyage was long and unplea- 
sant ; frequent storms kept us in constant danger 
of shipwreck and death. But this fate had no 
terrors for Bevocatus and me, for we would 
have died together and would have tenanted the 
same grave. While the sailors trembled with 
fear and importuned all their gods for delivery 
and assistance, my brother and I used to sit quiet- 
ly and watch the lightning as it flashed from the 
heavens, or listen to the rumbling of the thunder 
and the still more terrible roar of the waves dash- 
ing against the sides of our laboring ship. But 
it was not the will of heaven that we should die 
together. We arrived at Carthage; in spite of 
our prayers and tears we were obliged to sepa- 
rate for the first time in our lives. I became the 
slave of your noble mother ; Bevocatus fell to 
another master. This is our history, and you 
now see that it contains nothing to claim your 
attention.” 

“ You are mistaken, Bufina ; the cruel and un- 


The Christian Slave. 


57 


deserved misfortunes of your family and of your- 
‘self interest me and fill me with compassion. The 
gods have not given me a heart of brass or stone. 
Misfortune always wears a sacred aspect in my 
eyes, no matter the head on which it may fall. 
But continue, Rufina ; the day is waning and you 
have not yet satisfied my curiosity. Answer my 
questions frankly. What sort of songs are those 
you sing ? What poet composed them ? In what 
school have you learned that sublime philosophy 
of which you have given me a specimen by ask- 
ing pardon for those who sought to do you such 
cruel injury ? ” 

u Sweet lady, it was an easy task to inform 
you of what I had been up to the happy hour that 
made me your slave. At present I am at a loss 
to make myself intelligible, and to find the 
proper terms to translate my meaning and my 
thoughts. I shall endeavor to do so, however, 
since you wish it ; fortunately, you are blessed with 
mental qualities that will supply whatever may be 
wanting in my poor speech and explanations. 

u I have never assisted at your religious cere- 
monies or entered your temples. The religion of 
Gaul, or at least of that portion of it to which I 
belong, is not that of Carthage ; indeed, it is es- 
sentially different. I presume, however, that in 
your worship, besides sacrifices and the rites pe- 
culiar to each country, you have chants or hymns, 
in which priests and people join. From our 
childhood we are taught to sing these, and as we 


58 


The African FaMola. 


advance in age and their acquisition they become 
our most pleasing occupation. They are so beau- 
tiful and pure that they fill the heart with rap- 
ture. The husbandman guiding his plow repeats 
them to the echoes of the mountains ; young 
women and maidens fill the house with their 
beauty and melody while they ply their domestic 
tasks ; in the gloaming and by the twinkling star- 
light the shepherd enlivens his solitary watches by 
repeating them. 

“ These canticles are of the greatest antiquity, 
and were composed by inspired writers ; the spirit 
of sublimity and religion pervades them ; they 
lift up the soul beyond the things of earth and 
give birth in the heart to the noblest aspirations 
of virtue. Here they extol the wonders of crea- 
tion, there they convey the loftiest conception of 
the Omnipotence from which it sprung. ‘ God, 
Jehovah , is great ; he is wonderful in his works. 
The heavens proclaim his glory, and night de- 
clares it unto night. He said : Be light made , 
and the light was made. The stars answered : 
Lord , behold , here we are. He poised the earth in 
the immensity of space. He imprisoned the vast 
and stormy ocean in its bed, and appointed a lit- 
tle sand to be a barrier to its fury. He stretched 
out the clouds like a garment ; he wrapped them 
in mists as an infant is wrapped in its clothing. 
At his voice the heavens spread themselves as a 
tent, the sun rejoices as it comes forth like a 
giant to run its course. The mountains lifted 


The Christian Slave. 




themselves up, the valleys lowered themselves ; 
the fountains were opened and the rivers burst 
forth. At his command the lightning flashes 
from the clouds, darting from the east to the west, 
and the thunder gives forth its voice. He looks 
upon the earth and it trembles with fear. He 
touches the mountains, they quake and melt like 
wax before the fire. ’ 

“ Occasionally, too, our chants breathe the mild- 
er tone of thanksgiving and love. Thus, when 
we praise God’s mercy and providence : ‘ How 
good is Jehovah ! His paternal love reaches from 
age to age, embraces all generations and peoples. 
He gives his sun to embellish and fructify the 
earth ; he sends the dew and rain to the fields to 
bring forth their fruits. He hearkens to the cry 
of the fledgling and sends him food. He pro- 
vides grass for the toiling ox as he patiently 
draws the plough along the furrow, and clothes 
with beauty the flowers that bedeck the fields. 
His eyes follow the footsteps of the innocent and 
virtuous. If the injustice of men drives him 
into exile, he is with him in the desert; if 
they bind and cast him into prison, Jehovah 
bears him company to console his captivity, 
lie is a guide, a protector, a friend, and a father, 
who cannot abandon or forget his children.’ 
These are some of the subjects treated in our 
canticles ; they are musical and pleasant to the 
ear, but a thousand times more so to the heart 
that can understand and relish them. 


60 


The African Fabiola. 


‘ 6 In this world the number of the rich and 
happy is small indeed ! Suffering, misery, and 
tears are the lot of the majority. Some, like 
myself, are torn from home and country and have 
to weep for their eternal loss. And hence our 
canticles teem with sentiments appropriate to 
every phase of grief. They call to Jehovah’s 
mind that, ‘ The poor is entrusted to thy care ; 
thou art the helpless orphan’s undying father. 
Thy hands wipe away the tears of the afflicted, 
and make easy the hard pallet of the sufferer. 
One day the powerful man shall fall from the 
pinnacle of his greatness, and the indigent shall 
rise triumphantly from the dust. The proud one 
who exalted himself like the cedar of Libanus 
in a moment is no more ; the passing traveller 
saw him fall, sought him, but he was not to be 
found. Lord, thou seest our tears shed in exile 
for our lost country. Being slaves in a strange 
land, our canticles of joy have ceased, but our 
country, our true country, together with our lost 
liberty, shall be soon restored, and then we will 
intone the eternal canticle of joy and gladness.’ 

“Would, good mistress, that I could rehearse 
to you all the beautiful things contained in the 
canticles of my religion ! If they have often 
stirred your heart when sung by a poor slave 
and in a tongue unintelligible to you, imagine 
how they speak to the heart that loves and un- 
derstands them ! I have not much courage or 
strength, nor do I pretend to have ; I wept long 


The Christian Slave. 


61 


and bitterly when death took away those whom I 
loved ; I wept when I was left a poor, helpless 
orphan, when I was sold, when I was forced 
away from my home and country, when I was 
torn from my brother, the only and last one left 
me in this world. But I remembered the lessons 
taught by my mother, her mildness and patience 
when afflictions fell upon her. I remembered 
how she sang those canticles and what consoling 
balm they brought to her soul. I merely fol- 
lowed my mother’s example when, like her, I 
sought to solace my grief by repeating the canti- 
cles she used to sing and had taught me ; and 
thus my sorrow became less poignant and my 
tears less bitter. These canticles of my religion 
and fatherland are so beautiful and so sweet! 
Such poetry, as you would call it, is more than 
human, and could not have been the work of man.” 

Julia’s soul was moved to its depths. Admira- 
tion, fear, respect, and love thrilled every fibre 
of her heart and produced mysterious and pleas- 
ing sensations never felt before. 

The name of God, now heard for the first time, 
his omnipotence in creating the heavens and the 
earth, his care in guiding and controlling them, 
his goodness, that extends to the orphan, the pri- 
soner, the unhappy, and yet forgets not the pa- 
tient ox, the bird, the flower, or the blade of 
grass — all this was strangely mysterious and in- 
comprehensible, and introduced her into a new 
world. 


62 


The African Fabiola. 


“ Dear Rufina, continue, I beseecli you. How 
beautiful the philosophy taught in your country 
must be since it has inspired such noble ideas and 
poetry so sublime ! Oh ! why was I not born in 
that Gaul which my ignorance despised as the 
miserable home of savage and bloodthirsty 
tribes \ ” 

“ Good and kind mistress, I do not very well 
understand what you mean by the term philoso- 
phy. In my younger days I was told to mistrust 
it as a vain and empty pursuit. In our old Neus- 
tria there are no such schools as you have for 
your sons in Carthage. All that I know I learned 
from my parents, but principally from a kind old 
man who came into our neighborhood from 
Rome. Even now I can almost imagine I see 
him sitting among those whom he called his 
brethren, but more frequently his dear children. 
How sweet the face ! how calm the brow ! 
how mild the glance! how musical and per- 
suasive the language ! One felt that it gushed 
from the very depths of the heart, laden with all 
its strength and treasures. His words never 
failed to touch my heart, and on my return home 
I used to repeat and impress on my memory 
the beautiful things we had heard. 

“ The good old man bade us farewell one day, 
to go visit others of his children who longed for 
his presence ; w r e were never more to see him, 
alas ! Wicked men whom he sought to reclaim 
conceived a hatred of him, and nu r -ilessly mur- 


The Christian Stare. 


63 


dered him, despite liis silvery hair and great vir- 
tues, and liis last breath was a prayer for his 
enemies. 

“ God forbid that I should dare to argue with 
a person who claims all respect and deference ! 
You are of noble birth, while I am only a £oor 
slave. You are distinguished for intelligence 
and knowledge ; I am of lowly station and with- 
out education, as I have already informed you. 
Do not imagine, then, that I would wittingly say 
aught to wound or condemn even the youngest 
of my equals ; how much less would I you, who 
are my noble mistress? Oh! could you have 
heard that venerable man ! that it had been 
given to you to have known him and his virtues, 
to have witnessed, as I have, all his wonderful 
and good works ! Had this been your good for- 
tune, I am confident your faith and mine would 
be identical. 

“He recognized not the numerous divinities 
adored in Carthage, many of whom I hear men- 
tioned by my fellow-slaves. He taught us that 
there is but one God, eternal, before all ages, om- 
nipotent Creator, only Lord and sovereign Mas- 
ter of the universe ; that he is infinitely wise, 
just, and good, filling by his immensity all space, 
the heavens, the earth, and the sea ; that 
he is the invisible witness of all our thoughts, 
words, and actions ; that, in his infinite mer- 
cy, this God gave us his only, beloved, and 
eternal Son, who, by an incomprehensible mys- 


64 


The African Fabiola. 


tery of love, condescended to assume our na- 
ture, to suffer and die to save our fallen and 
guilty race; that lie will one day judge all man- 
kind, will give infinite happiness and glory to 
those who shall have led good lives, but will in- 
flict eternal chastisement on the wicked. 

“ I have heard it said that the morality incul- 
cated by some religions is very lax — nay, that 
they foster and flatter the most grovelling pro- 
pensities and unnatural crimes. I know not how 
much truth there may be in this accusation, and 
can scarcely bring myself to believe that it may be 
true. Vice should be branded always, and virtue 
honored. But he who instructed me in my in- 
fancy inculcated on his hearers the necessity of 
cultivating the most delicate modesty and purity. 
An evil thought is enough, he used to say, to 
separate us for ever from our all-holy God ; hence 
we guard ourselves not only against evil but 
against its desire or even thought, for our hearts 
must be as pure as our bodies. God searches the 
heart and reins . With us marriage is held in 
honor, but perfect continency, which we look 
upon as a gift from heaven, is honored still more. 
Hence those who observe it, in order to attain to 
greater perfection, compose a class of their own, 
and enjoy especial privileges. 

“We pray often, and are taught that prayer 
should be the utterance of a pure and innocent 
heart. We look upon obedience as a virtue; 
consequently we practise it with readiness and 


The Christian Slave. 


65 


alacrity, no matter who be the master to whom we 
may belong. It is thus I have always served you, 
dear mistress, since I became your slave. We 
are commanded to love and assist one another 
with all patience and mildness. Quarrelling, 
hatred, and revenge are strictly prohibited. If 
we are despised, persecuted, plundered, or beat- 
en, we are instructed to suffer in silence, to love 
those who hate us, to pray for those who perse- 
cute and calumniate us ; the more we are in- 
jured the more we ought to endeavor to pay good 
for evil ; this is our sole way of taking revenge. 

“ Such, then, noble lady, is, so far as I have 
been able to explain it, what you call our philo- 
sophy, but what we designate as our doctrine. I 
have conveyed it to you but very imperfectly, not 
that I wished to dissemble my faith and what I 
have been taught. Woe to me if I be ashamed 
of my faith ! I do not forget that the blood of 
a martyr courses in my veins ; you understand 
now what I meant when I told you that my fa- 
ther’s head fell by the sword of the executioner 
because of his fidelity to a noble and holy 
cause. In like manner it was from the lips of a 
glorious martyr that I learned the little that I 
know of the doctrine in which I had the happi- 
ness to have been brought up.” 

“ For some time past, Ruiina, I suspected that 
you belonged to the new sect. Guard and 
cherish the religion of your childhood and coun- 
try; it is beautiful, although severe; its maxims 


66 


The African Fabiola. 


are pure, but, in my opinion, very difficult in 
tlieir observance. Hitherto I only knew it from 
what I had heard said of it by flippant or preju- 
diced men, who, as I now clearly see, misrepre- 
sented and slandered it. Your frank explana- 
tions have set it before m'e in its true light. I 
admire it, and feel that my heart commences to 
lean towards it. Some time, perhaps . . 

Rufina fell on her knees and was about to 
speak, when a messenger came to say that the 
evening meal was ready. 



/ 


CHAPTEK IY. 

THE VISION. 

For some days after this conversation Julia ap- 
peared more pensive than usual. Hanno and the 
children questioned her in vain ; she evaded all 
their enquiries. Completely absorbed in her 
own thoughts, she constantly dwelt on the simple 
but touching words of her slave, so that her mind 
could not shake off the contemplation of that 
wonderful system of belief, and the still more 
marvellous teaching of the Christians regarding 
virtue and charity. Although of a noble family, 
well educated, and confessedly intelligent, she had 
hitherto had but the most limited and crude no- 
tions regarding the Deity, while a poor girl who 
could not even read, who was born in a cabin in 
a barbarous country, had spoken to her in the most 
sublime strain regarding God, his nature, his per- 
fections, his providence, as well as the creation 
and the government of the universe ! “ How won- 
derful is her God ! ” said she to herself ; “ how ad- 
mirable in his unity and marvellous in his power ! 
Oh ! how consoling must it be to love a being so 
good ! ” She felt tempted to fall on her knees at 
67 



68 


The Af rican Fabiola. 


his feet and exclaim ; “ 0 God of Rufina ! thou 
art my GodT 

As we have already stated, Julia had a natural 
love for virtue ; she had a horror of vice, while 
everywhere she saw nothing but depravity in 
morals, indecent amusements, and shameful ex- 
cesses. Nor could she disguise the fact that these 
excesses were authorized by her very religion and 
sanctioned by the example, nay, by the very 
worship, of some of her gods. Hatred begotten 
of pride, dissensions, implacable rivalries, lawless 
ambition, deadly revenge, insatiable greed of 
wealth, were the life and soul of the ever restless 
pagan world. The rich were proud and cruel to 
their slaves, but recklessly squandered their money 
and the income of their vast estates in the most 
vfllgar enjoyment and debasing pleasures. The 
poor were despised, and when old age came they 
had only to die of want ; the widow and the or- 
phan were left to shed theil’ bitter tears in neg- 
lect and squalid misery. Among the Christians, 
on the contrary, morality was pure and virtue 
honored; their repasts were temperate, no ex- 
cesses or levity of speech ; the rich were neither 
proud nor ostentatious, but humane and chari- 
table, and treated their slaves not only kindly but 
fraternally. They bestowed alms liberally as 
well as judiciously, so that bread and clothing 
were never wanting to their poor. Peace and 
harmony dwelt among them ; they seemed to have 
but one soul and one heart. 


The Vision . 


69 


Julia’s soul was too noble and honest not to 
remark this striking contrast. She felt herself 
drawn towards a religion that harmonized so tho- 
roughly with her own intelligent mind and vir- 
tuous instincts. The more she reflected the more 
clearly she saw it. Nothing now remained but 
to brave public opinion and the fear of her hus- 
band’s displeasure. But grace soon came to aid 
the accomplishment of the work begun by a 
slave. 

Her daughter Yivia, then in her twentieth 
year, fell seriously ill. The devoted mother had 
now but one thought, that of watching over her 
beloved child and snatching her from the grasp 
of death. Her post was always by the sick-bed ; 
but an angel in the shape of a young woman was 
her constant companion, watching and praying. 
This was Bufina, for she wished to share with the 
mother the cares and fatigues of Yivia’s sick- 
room, as well as of the affections of her heart. 

“How kind you are, Bufina dear!” was Ju- 
lia’s constant exclamation. “ You were the only 
one that pitied my little Dinacle when a horrible 
cancer was slowly eating away his fair face and 
made it so loathsome that his own father could 
not bear to look on it. But you alone did not 
shun him ; you vied with his mother in courage 
and care, and in washing his horrible sores, al- 
though you could not have the incentives which 
naturally support a mother’s love ; and here again 
your inexhaustible devotedness keeps you day 


70 


The African Fabiola. 


and night by my child’s bedside ! Your genero- 
sity overcomes my heart. IIow can I ever repay 
you ?” 

“ Good mistress, why recall my poor services 
to your lost child ? I did but my duty, and have 
you not every right to my labor and assiduity ? 
Had Heaven heard my prayers he had not died ; 
but my poor prayers were not worthy to be 
heard. Your noble boy was taken from you, but 
he is waiting for his mother in a better world.” 

“ That time has not drowned my sorrow you 
know full well, Rufina, for not a day passes that 
I do not weep for his loss. He was so young, so 
affectionate, and so beautifully fair before that 
mortal disease had disfigured him ! What a bril- 
liant future did I weave for him in my imagina- 
tion, until death came and rudely dispelled my 
dreams ! Cherished Dinacle ! Of him nothing 
remains to me save the cold ashes that I so often 
water with my tears. I lost two others, but they 
died in infancy — like flowers in the bud ; these I 
had scarcely seen ; they knew not their mother, 
and they died, too, without suffering or pain. 
But not so my Dinacle ; he both knew and lov- 
ed me, and oh ! he suffered so much before he 
died. Seek not to soothe my sorrow ; let me 
weep without consolation and without hope.” 

“ O dearest mistress ! would that you had 
the Christians’ faith ! For them death is but the 
separation of a few days. Among us, when a 
mother loses her infant, she weeps, indeed, be- 


The Vision . 


71 


cause she is a mother ; but she is soon lifted up, 
and, with a heart full of hope and eyes fixed on 
heaven, exclaims : ‘ Dear babe, He who gave you 
to my love has recalled you to his own paternal 
bosom. Blessed be his name ! I shall soon go 
to rejoin you, never more to be separated. ” 

‘ ‘ But what assurance have you that such hope 
is not fallacious \ ” 

“ God’s ; for he is the sweet consoler of afflict- 
ed mothers.” 

“ But Dinacle belonged not to your religion ; 
he believed not in the God of the Christians.” 

“ God has ways unknown to us ; his mercy is 
infinite.” 

“ Might this be true, Rufina ? . . . Dinacle 
would not be wholly dead — would still live some- 
where ! But who would take care of him ? Who 
would bind his sores and soothe his racking 
pains ? ” 

“ Your child suffers no longer ; he has shuffled 
off the body, and with it all the sores that dis- 
tressed you so much ; he is now living a new life.” 

“ Where is he, then ? ” 

“In heaven — which belongs in an especial 
manner to little children, and whither both his 
little brothers have gone before him.” 

Rufina’s eyes beamed with heavenly radiance 
and joy. 

“ In heaven ! my beloved child in heaven ! ” 
cried the mother, as she instinctively sprang to 
her feet and clasped her hands. 


72 The African Fabiola. 

“ My dear brother Dinacle is in heaven ! ” 
murmured Yivia, whom they had thought asleep, 
but who had heard the whole conversation. 

She stretched out her hand to the lowly slave, 
who grasped and covered it with affectionate and 
ardent kisses ; for she, too, was overjoyed at hav- 
ing confessed the faith, at having conversed about 
God and heaven, and at having brought consola- 
tion to the heart of a disconsolate mother; she 
had noted, too, the tears of happiness glistening 
in the eyes of her young mistress. “ O God of 
love ! ” said she in her heart, “ perfect the work 
thou hast commenced ; these are worthy of know- 
ing and loving thee.” 

Meantime Yivia’s malady grew daily more and 
more alarming, and science had exhausted all its 
efforts in vain. All hope was lost. Julia, a 
prey to the most agonizing grief, endeavored by 
every means in her power to stay the life slowly 
ebbing away. Rufina prayed : “ Good and mer- 
ciful Saviour, thou who hadst pity on, and gave 
back to, a weeping mother the son who was 
being carried to the grave, take compassion on 
my mistress ; spare and preserve to her her dy- 
ing child. Take my life instead ; I offer it to 
thee with all my soul. Break not the heart of her 
who has been so kind to me ; protect the life of 
her dear child, in order that they may unite with 
me in honoring and serving thee.” 

The angel of prayer bore to Christ’s feet the 
humble and generous petition of the slave. 


The Vision . 


73 


Death had not struck the iinal blow, but re- 
mained hovering, so to speak, over the young in- 
valid, who continued to linger for days, speechless 
and unconscious. An occasional stir or a feeble 
sigh was the only indication that life w T as not en- 
tirely extinct. 

On the evening of the fifteenth day, after hav- 
ing taken a potion administered by her mother, 
she fell back quietly on her bed and closed her 
eyes as if in quiet repose. Julia gazed long and 
silently upon her ; but, whether from excess of 
fatigue, or by the will of Providence, her head 
drooped, and then deep sleep fell upon her. “ God 
be praised ! ” said the attentive slave ; u this rest 
will be a precious boon to my poor mistress, and 
I can pray more at my leisure.” Saying this, 
she sank on her knees at the foot of Julia’s bed 
in such a position as to enable her to watch over 
both. 

A subject so interesting and sad would afford 
material for a grand picture. On an ebony couch 
inlaid with ivory lay a maiden wan and pale ; 
her long tresses fell waving over a neck whose 
blue veins moved tremulously at every pulsation 
of the sleeper’s heart. Her sharp but clear-cut 
features told, however, of long and severe suffer-* 
ing. Did not the movement of her breathing 
cause the rich coverlet to rise and fall gently, one 
would have thought that she had just died. By 
her side a woman, still in all the bloom of beauty, 
with a face stamped with an expression of grief 


74 


The African Fabiola. 


peculiar, to, and experienced only by, mothers ; at 
a little distance below a young woman clad in 
the humble dress of a slave, her arms clasped in 
fervent prayer, her eyes raised to heaven, her 
countenance beaming with faith and love, while a 
sweet and heavenly smile flitted on her lips. 

But what neither the skill nor genius of the 
artist could have reproduced was the mysterious 
drama then taking place in the soul of the mo- 
ther. Julia meantime was profoundly buried in 
sleep. Suddenly, to the amazement of Rufina, 
her head was lifted up as if looking at some ob- 
ject, and she seemed to be listening attentively to 
a voice speaking to her. Her animated counte- 
nance faithfully reflected the many and strong 
emotions passing in her soul ; there was fear, 
terror, and a sadness bordering on despair ; then 
joy, admiration, hope, and gratitude. At one 
time she drew back her head and covered her face 
with her hands as if in terror; her respiration 
grew labored and her countenance became fright- 
fully distorted and pale ; then, as if freed from an 
oppressive weight, she breathed more freely ; her 
face grew calm ; a smile played on her lips ; her 
brow became radiant ; sweet tears coursed down 
her cheeks ; while her hands, being alternately 
lifted up and clasped on her bosom, left no room 
for doubt that the impressions then received were 
those of joy and gladness. 

Without losing sight of her mistress for even 
an instant, Rufina redoubled her fervor, under the 


The Vision. 


75 


intuitive feeling that she was receiving a revela- 
tion from heaven. Drawing from her bosom a 
little wooden cross received from her dying mo- 
ther and treasured with religious care, she pressed 
it to her lips, bathed it with her tears, begging of 
God the recovery of the dying girl and the con- 
version of her mother. Never had her heart 
uttered a more fervent, earnest prayer. 

“Rufina, dear Rufina,” suddenly cried Julia, 
bursting into tears and throwing herself into her 
arms, “ your God is mine — I, too, am a Chris- 
tian ! ” 

“ I have lived long enough, O my God ! since 
my beloved mistress has come to the knowledge 
of thee.” 

“ Rufina, dearly beloved sister, call me. no long- 
er by the name of mistress. It would be more 
fitting that I should call you so, because through 
you have I come to the knowledge of the true 
God, through you have I obtained the recovery of 
my child — for Yivia will live in order to become 
a Christian, like her mother and yourself.” 

“ God alone gives light ; so, too, he alone brings 
back from the gates of death. To him, and to 
him alone, be all glory, benediction, and thanks ! ” 

“ What you say is right, Rufina : the light that 
enlightens the soul, as well as the impulse that 
moves the heart, comes from God ; who but he 
can wrest the victim from the jaws of death ? But 
it is to your exalted virtues and fervent prayed 
that I owe the twofold gift received from him.” 


76 


The African Fabiola. 


“ I have been told by the venerable apostle of 
my country that God does not regard the merit, 
but shows mercy on whom he pleases. Say not, 
therefore, that God has shown you mercy for my 
sake, who am a miserable sinner and the last 
of the Lord’s servants. You have kept your- 
self pure in the very bosom of corruption ; you 
have been kind and merciful to your slaves, 
charitable to the poor, the friends of God. He 
has witnessed and blessed your good works, 
and to-day he crowns your virtues and your 
charity.” 

“ Seek not, dear Jtufina, to impose on me by an 
excess of modesty. In my dream — but no, it 
was no dream, but something real and true, a 
voice from heaven — in that vision I saw you as 
clearly as I do now ; and it was you that saved 
my beloved child from death ; it was you, too, 
that asked and obtained for her mother the grace 
of becoming a Christian. But before I relate to 
you this vision, which I shall not forget as long 
as I live, permit me, Rufina, my sister, to kiss 
the little cross which I saw you draw from your 
bosom, and which you have put back, no doubt, 
as I see it no longer in your hands.” 

The slave could not refuse. The humble cross 
was presented to the noble patrician, who loving- 
ly and respectfully pressed it to her lips. 

“Now, then, my good Rufina, sit by me, give 
rtieyour hand, and listen.” 

Not to disturb the peaceful slumber into which 


The Vision. 


77 


tlie young invalid seemed to have fallen, she thus 
began in a low voice : 

“ After a long struggle sleep overcame me. 
Immediately a most appalling spectacle present- 
ed itself to me. I saw Yivia struggling in the 
throes of a mortal agony ; she writhed her arms, 
her eyes, haggard and bloodshot, seemed to burst 
from their sockets, while she continually cried : 
* Oh ! to die so young. Oh ! I cannot, I will not 
die.’ As I bent over her bed, wet with perspi- 
ration, I tried to quiet her, but in vain. I clasped 
her to my bosom, and, in answer to her piercing 
cries, said: ‘Ho, my dear child, you shall not 
die ; the gods are not so unjust, so cruel as to 
take you away in the spring-time of life ; and, 
merciless as the Fates are said to be, they will not 
cut the thread of your young days. Your mo- 
ther’s tears and your youth will move them to 
pity.’ 

“ My eyes now fell on a hideous phantom that 
I had taken no notice of, but which, no doubt, 
had been the cause of my child’s alarm. His 
giant form towered above the bed ; his eyes flash- 
ed with fiendish satisfaction, like those of a tiger 
tearing his prey ; sometimes he laughed aloud, as 
if in mockery of the tears and lamentations of his 
victim. Higher and nigher came he, as his bony 
fingers prepared to clutch my child’s heart. I 
rushed at him to keep him off. ‘Who are you?’ 
cried he in a terrible and hissing voice — ‘ who are 
you to dare to cope with me ? Head ! my name 


78 The African Fabiola. 

is written on my forehead : Death ! P erdition ! 
Cease your feeble and useless efforts. Your 
daughter, the pride of your life, the idol of your 
heart, belongs to me. Only look and you will 
see the futility of your struggles; they cannot 
stay for a single instant her fall and my triumph.’ 

“ I turned and saw an open gra^e ; hard by a 
deep, black pit, whence rolled clouds of dense 
smoke mixed with lurid flames, that exhaled all 
around the most sickening stench and the stifling 
fumes of brimstone and pitch. Shapes the most 
hideous to the eye were busily at work cast- 
ing into the pit thousands of victims, whose 
shrieks of despair and terror filled the air. I saw 
them falling, falling, dragged lower and lower. 
Their awfful cries of despair rang in my ears more 
clearly and heartrending than ever went up from 
a crowd of slaves cast to the famished lions and 
leopards of the arena. 

“ I noted with astonishment that all these vic- 
tims had also a name written on their foreheads 
in letters of fire : Adulterer, murderer, miser, 
proud , glutton , infidel , etc. Every one had at 
least one, but many had several. I strove to turn 
away my eyes from this frightful spectacle, but a 
power superior to mine prevented me. In my 
terror I endeavored to hide my face in my hands, 
but I could not move them ; they hung as if 
palsied or chained to my side. 

“ How a piercing shriek fell on my ear. I re- 
cognized Vivia’s voice ; the monster grasped my 


The Vision. 


79 


daughter’s heart with his left hand, and with his 
right pointed to the grave and the 3 T awninggulf. 
Other phantoms no less hideous crowded around 
bearing red-hot chains, which they began to wind 
all around her. At this juncture, Rufina, you 
appeared; the monster shuddered and trembled as 
if he acknowledged in you a power superior to 
his own ; my daughter’s heart being freed, she 
breathed more freely ; the grave and the pit 
closed half way. You were quite calm, Rufina; 
with eyes raised to heaven you poured forth a 
flood of prayer irresistibly powerful, yet quite 
unintelligible to me. You had taken out the 
identical little cross which you just now gave me 
to kiss, and you held it over my daughter’s head 
so that it seemed to touch it. All the monster’s 
fury seemed as if it had been curbed by some 
powerful chain ; some one seemed to strike down 
his arm every time he tried to reach my daugh- 
ter’s heart. He reminded me of a panther strug- 
gling at the bars of his cage to fly at his prey. 

“ Meanwhile the monster still remained and 
continued to hiss and struggle unceasingly. I 
am totally at a loss to explain what you did next, 
dear Rufina. Your face became dazzlingly bril- 
liant, a ray of light shot from your fiery lips, and 
it appeared to me that drops of fresh blood oozed 
from your little cross and fell slowly on my fore- 
head and on Vivia’s. It was like a cooling balm, 
but infinitely more refreshing than anything I 
had ever felt before. Then a bright light shone in 


80 The African Fabiola. 

the room and on the bed ; so soft and pure was it 
that the light of day was only shadow and dark- 
ness in comparison. In this I saw a woman so 
marvellously beautiful, so unearthly fair, that the 
world never saw the like. She was clad in gar- 
ments whiter than the untrodden snow. Instead 
of a crown of jewels, such as queens wear, hers 
was composed of stars more effulgent than the 
brightest stars in the firmament. Her appear- 
ance was full of lofty dignity, while sweetness 
beamed from her eyes and sat upon her lips. 
Oh ! how differently do men represent the false 
divinities that I have heretofore worshipped in 
my blindness. But this woman, Bufina, was all 
heavenly ; her beauty was wholly divine, and so 
dazzling that the brightness of the sun would 
pale before it. 

“ She was surrounded by a troop of fair-haired 
children, of whom I could only see the heads and 
expanded wings, the rest being enveloped in 
clouds. Innocence, happiness, and love beamed 
in their faces ; their voices sounded like sweet 
music and thrilled through every fibre of my 
heart as they sung to this woman, if indeed she 
may be called a woman : 4 Hail, full of grace, the 
Lord is with thee, the purest and most perfect of 
creatures ! Blessed art thou among women ; 
and because thou wert worthy to bear in thy 
womb the Word made flesh, all nations shall vie 
in glorifying and proclaiming thee blessed. ’ 

“ She gazed on you, Bufina, with ineffable sweet 


The Vision . 


81 


ness, as a fond mother does on a beloved child. 
You were speaking to her, doubtlessly, for your 
lips were constantly moving. ‘ Daughter/ said 
she to you, and the angels hushed theii^ song, 

‘ your humble prayer reached my throne in the 
highest heavens ; I have presented it to the Lord, 
and he has granted your petition. The girl shall 
live because you have prayed for her ; she shall 
live in order that she may become a Christian. 
She will one day give glorious testimony to 
Christ, my Son ; her name shall be great in 
heaven and on earth, and it shall be praised and 
honored to the end of the world.’ 

“Then, turning to me: 4 My child,’ said she, 
6 although very imperfect, your virtues and your 
abundant alms have not been forgotten by Him 
who knows and sees all things ; he has had com- 
passion on your lamentable blindness. For a 
long time this humble slave (pointing to you), 
who is far your superior in the eyes of heaven, 
has presented the most fervent supplications to 
the throne of grace that your eyes might be 
finally opened to the light. God in his good- 
ness gives you back your child from the brink of 
the grave and of the gulf that you saw yawning 
at her feet. Believe; adore him who alone is 
worthy of adoration and love.’ I then felt as if 
a hand was placed gently on my head. The vision 
had disappeared. 

“How can I describe what I felt ? A strange 
joy filled my soul ; it seemed as if a new life and 


82 


The African Fabiola. 


a new heart had been given to me. Faith, like a 
beam of sunlight, had shot into my soul. I be- 
lieved ; prostrate on the ground I adored the true 
God, ignored by me so long ; sister, I was at last 
a Christian like yourself. It was at this point 
that I returned to consciousness. But who can 
this woman be whose incomparable beauty is -sur- 
passed by her still more wonderful sweetness ? 
Who are those children that sang with such ra- 
vishing melody ? Can you tell me, Rufina ? ” 

“Kind mistress, she whom you saw once dwelt 
in an eastern country; she lived a lowly and sor- 
row-laden life. She was the daughter of the an- 
cient royal line of Juda, and her name was Mary. 
When God decreed to save man by becoming man 
himself, he chose her on account of her humility 
and immaculate purity. Without any detriment 
whatever to her spotless virginity she became 
the Mother of Christ. She stood at the foot of 
the cross, and his blood and tears flowed upon her 
when he was dying for us. This disconsolate 
Mother survived her Son’s death for many years ; 
but now she is with him in heaven, crowned by 
him with glory and power. But how shall I 
make you understand all her goodness, tender- 
ness, and love for men, whom she looks upon as 
her children ? No one could; still less, then, can 
I, who am but a poor ignorant woman. 

“ Those whom you saw in your vision and 
whom you imagined to be children are not such; 
they are the Lord’s angels, the noblest and purest 


The Vision. 


83 


of all his creatures. Created by his omnipotent 
voice, these blessed spirits see God face to face ; 
they praise, adore, and bless him without ceasing, 
and never depart from before his throne save to 
bear his commands or to do his bidding. It is 
our belief that one of these angels is appointed to 
each of us in order to guide and protect us. 
Being a faithful friend, a devoted brother, a sure 
guide, we follow him cheerfully ; being a power- 
ful protector, we constantly call upon him in all 
our trials and difficulties.” 

The result of this wonderful series of events 
was that Julia, in spite of the prejudices of birth 
and education, courageously declared herself a 
Christian. In the Church of Carthage she was 
justly looked upon as one of its leading members, 
both by reason of her zeal for the faith and her 
great piety. ’ Vi via, having been restored to 
health miraculously, soon followed her mother’s 
example, and had her name enrolled on the list 
of catechumens. The poor slave from Gaul was 
set free. She made use of her liberty to conse- 
crate herself by a solemn vow to the Spouse of 
virgins, without, however, quitting the noble 
lady who had become for her a friend, a com- 
panion, and a sister. 

But it is high time to return to the young wo- 
man whom we left writhing under the grave and 
severe reprimands of Tertullian, 



CHAPTER V. 

THE STRUGGLE AND THE SACRIFICE. 

After the priest’s abrupt departure Vi via re- 
mained for some time as unconscious as if she had 
been stricken by lightning. Her infant struggled 
in her arms apparently unheard and unheeded. 
With her glazed look, parted lips, and pallid 
countenance she bore a strong resemblance to 
one of the marble statues in her own atrium . 
The struggles and wailing of the child finally 
succeeded in arousing her. Having quieted the 
infant, she placed it in its cradle, where it soon 
fell into the quiet slumber of innocence. The 
mother threw herself wearily on a couch. Just 
then a slave entered the apartment to wait upon 
her mistress as usual. 

“ Thanks, Verecunda, for your attentiveness, 
but I wish to be alone,” said the young patrician. 
“ However, in case my mother or Rufina should 
come, you will admit them. With this exception 
I wish to see no one.” 

“Noble .mistress, may I be permitted to ask if 
you have heard bad tidings from your valiant 
husband ? Is he wounded ? Has he fallen into 
84 


The Struggle and the Sacrifice. 85 

the hands of the cruel Numidians and been car- 
ried in chains into their sandy deserts?” 

“I have received no tidings from Jarbas for 
nearly a month. Although I cannot but tremble 
for the safety of a man of his courage and bra- 
very? I hope, however, the Lord watches over him 
and has saved him from the misfortunes which 
you seem to dread.” 

tc Why, then, do you refuse my customary ser- 
vices and shut yourself up in the solitude of your 
apartments? If you feel unwell permit me to 
watch by your side. Is not this the duty of a 
faithful slave ? ” 

“ I fully appreciate your attachment, good 
Verecunda. There is no cause for anxiety. I 
simply desire to be alone, and nothing more.” 

“ Oh ! then, the stranger who has just gone 
away was wanting in respect to the noble daugh- 
ter of Hanno, and I am not surprised at it, for 
the young companion who has been introduced to 
you by him told me just now that she was afraid 
of him, that he had a severe and scowling look, 
and that his voice, although she heard it at a 
great way off, had filled her with terror. It is 
evident that this man has annoyed you, for you 
are still very pale, and it is easy to see that you 
have been weeping. However, you need only to 
say one word, and if this bad man comes again 
one of your brawniest slaves shall hurl him from 
the door.” 

You know not what you are talking about. 


86 


The African Fabiola. 


my poor Verecunda. Why do you listen to the 
foolish prattle of a silly girl who perhaps finds 
amusement in making fun of you? The man 
whom you accuse of insolence and wickedness, 
this stranger whom your imprudent zeal would 
spurn from the door, is as well known to you as 
- he is to me ; you have seen him frequently both 
here and in the assembly of the faithful. That 
was Tertullian, the glory of Carthage, the intre- 
pid defender of our faith, the terror of pagans, 
whom he crushes by the thunders of his elo- 
quence. But you have tarried too long already. 
I repeat, I wish to be alone ; go then, Verecunda ; 
in case I need your services I can easily call you 
hither.” 

The slave withdrew. 

The feelings and heart of the young patrician 
had been so strained and wrung that the mo- 
ment she found herself alone she burst into a 
violent fit of weeping ; tears brought her relief 
and the power of calm reflection. She repeated 
mentally all the admonitions of Tertullian, whose 
every word was for her an oracle, so deep was her 
respect for that extraordinary man. His cele- 
brated “ Apology, or Defence for the Christians,” 
had just been published ; it had won and was 
then receiving the attention and admiration, nay 
enthusiasm, of the entire Church. Vi via had read 
this masterpiece of reasoning and eloquence, and 
looked upon the priest of Carthage as a man raised 
up by God and imbued with the spirit and power 


The Struggle and the Sacrifice . 87 

of Christ to vindicate his religion, to confound 
the so-called wisdom of the world* and the de- 
testable pride of the Homan emperors. She ran 
her eye over and examined one by one all the 
worldly vanities that surrounded her and on ac- 
count of which lie had so severely reprimanded 
her, and then it seemed to her as if the costly 
necklaces and golden bracelets burned her flesh, 
like red-hot iron. The evening breeze, too, 
seemed to rebuke her worldliness as it gently 
waved the rich drapery of her couch, while the 
blaze of numberless lamps was reflected every- 
where from gold, ivory, jewels, and precious 
stones. Everything round about her, even the 
very cradle and her infant, seemed to recall and 
re-echo the stern reprimands of the priest. She 
felt like a criminal revisiting the scene of his 
crime, when in his trembling fear he imagines 
every one he meets to be an accuser or a witness, 
every sound to be a denunciation and a demand 
for justice. 

Taken all in all, Yivia was really an excellent 
person ; she had been formed in the school of her 
pious mother and the devout Rufina, From the 
time of her renunciation of paganism her faith 
had never wavered, although she had not given 
proof of much eagerness in preparing for and 
hastening the time of baptism. It must be said, 
however, that at the time of which we write 
many persons remained for years in the order of 
catechumens; also that the bishop was not very 


88 


The African Fabiola. 


urgent in tlie matter, as lie feared they might 
relapse into idolatry through temptation, family 
influence, or evil habits not yet entirely over- 
eome ; nay, he profited by this delay in testing 
their sincerity and giving them more ample in- 
struction. In justice to Yivia it must be said 
that there was some excuse for her neglect if we 
consider the preparations necessary for her mar- 
riage, the festivities of the occasion, and the du- 
ties of her new position. 

But now all her faith was aroused, and new 
thoughts crowded tumultuously into her soul. 
She had abjured paganism before God’s altar ; 
had asked to be admitted among the followers of 
Christ ; the waters of regeneration were about to 
cleanse her ; and, in spite of all this, she had con- 
tinued to lead a most worldly and unmortified 
life. Her home and table were as lavishly fur- 
nished as any of the pagan aristocracy, and, as she 
had been justly asked, what was there in her dress 
and surroundings to distinguish her as a Chris- 
tian ? Did she not wear her hair as long and as 
fashionably as if she were a pagan ? Did she not 
use the same essences and wear the same stuffs ? 
Did she not bedeck herself with the same brilliants, 
display, and splendor ? Was her retinue of slaves 
less numerous, her chariot less burnished, and her 
fiery steeds less richly caparisoned ? She blushed 
for shame at seeing herself so effeminate and 
worldly while her heart and engagements bound 
her to a religion which preaches simplicity, mo- 


The Struggle and the Sacrifice . 89 

desty, and mortification ! “ What ! ” thought 

she, “I believe in and adore a God born in a 
lowly stable, in poverty and obscurity, a God 
whose hands knew the fatigue of constant and 
rugged toil, and who had not where to lay his 
wearied head, while I do not scruple to live in 
ease, to deny nothing to my tastes and caprices, 
and occupy myself only in what amuses or, at 
best, only prevents indolence from being irk- 
some. 

“ Christ fasted in a desert ; his life was one of 
penance and retirement. He shed tears often, 
and although his ineffable sweetness may have 
sometimes wreathed his lips into a kindly smile, 
it must have been seldom, so great was the bitter- 
ness of his soul ! He willingly delivered his 
body to suffer for me! His limbs were torn 
by the scourge, his head crowned with thorns, 
and a hard cross his bed of death ! And I — my 
life is spent in ease and enjoyment ! No expense 
is spared in providing my table with the most ex- 
quisite food ! A diadem crowns my brow, I live 
amid perfumes and bathe in aromatic waters, and 
when night falls I repose on soft down encano- 
pied in silken curtains ! Oh ! ” said she, striking 
her breast, “ how long shall my heart be heavy ? 
How long shall I have the name of a Christian 
and the habits of a pagan? How long shall I 
love. vanity and lies? Because gold and silver 
shine in my dress, because I sparkle with dia- 
monds, because people look at, admire, and praise 


90 


The A frican Fabiola. 


me, is my soul on that account less poor, less 
miserable, less naked in the eyes of him who can- 
not be deceived by vain appearances ? What 
shall I answer him one day when thousands 
whom I might have relieved will accuse me be- 
fore his tribunal of having left them to die of 
hunger and want \ ” 

Thus did faith and grace goad this heart so 
laboriously won to God by the prayers and self- 
sacrifice of a poor slave. But the rival of the Al- 
mighty was not wanting even here with his lies 
and deceitful arguments ; before Yivia had time 
to form a final and firm resolution he gently 
prompted the thought : 

“ But what reason can there be to make this 
change so suddenly ? Such a course could not fail 
to excite public remark. What would people 
sa}^ ot the noble Lady Yivia were she to follow a 
manner' of life so little in keeping with her birth 
and rank ? Hanno loved to see his daughter ad- 
mired, and would he be indifferent, or rather 
would he not be filled with indignation and 
anger ? What would the proud Jarbas say when 
he should return crowned with laurel and find 
his wife living on scanty fare, clad like a woman 
of humble rank, and would look in vain for the 
richly-robed and bejewelled form that he loved ? 
True, hitherto he seemed to be inclined towards 
the new religion ; still, he had neither said nor did 
anything definite. Might it not be possible for 
him to grow zealous for the old religion, and, in 


The Struggle and the Sacrifice. 91 


this supposition, might lie not force her to an 
apostasy which would disgrace her for ever 
among the Christians ; or, in case of resistance, 
might he not ignominiously repudiate, cast her 
forth from his house, and deprive her of her dar- 
ling infant \ The laws gave him the right of 
doing all this, and, even if they did not, had he 
not sufficient influence in the city to be able to 
act as he pleased with impunity ? 

“ At any rate, she had not yet been baptized, 
and she could wait until she had been before 
making up her mind and coming to a final reso- 
lution. It would be the height of imprudence to 
advance only to recede again ; such a course 
would only give scandal to the Christians and a 
triumph to their enemies. After all, had not 
the priest been actuated by and spoken under 
the impulse of mistaken zeal ? Ho doubt he was 
a man of learning and merit, but lie was quick, 
choleric, and as unsparing to others as to himself. 
Perhaps, with too much confidence in overween- 
ing knowledge and virtue, he delights to bend 
others to his own ideas and to lord it over their 
minds and hearts. Without pushing the sacri- 
fice too far, might she not do just as well by re- 
trenching gradually in the matter of dress, yield- 
ing a little less to vanity and ease, and assisting a 
few poor families ? Go^ could not require more 
from a young woman of her rank and position.” 

Alas 1 such is the sad condition of our fallen 
nature. We know what is good, pure, holy ; 


92 The African Fabiola. 

we admire and love it ; our hearts have still as- 
pirations for virtue. Like the wounded bird that 
would fain soar to the clouds as of yore, but soon 
falls exhausted to the ground, we too experience 
moments of fervor and lofty aims, our strength 
fails, and we stop short at the beginning of the 
race that a moment before we were so anxious 
to run. After having been held in check for a 
little while our nature reasserts itself very quick- 
ly, and the recoil only gives it more nerve and 
stubbornness ; the struggle is fierce, and one in 
which the inner man is frequently worsted and 
overcome. 

Yivia was undecided, her heart was fluctuating 
between two conflicting resolutions. She had 
not followed the dictates of grace ; on the con- 
trary, she had imprudently listened -to all the 
suggestions mentioned above, so that the good 
impulses first received had vanished, and left her 
reduced to such a state of apathy that she offered 
but very feeble resistance to the suggestions of 
her heart and enemy. God took compassion on 
her, for when she was, perhaps, on the point of 
yielding, Rufina’s hand gently lifted the curtain 
that hung across the entrance to the apartment. 
She had been informed by the young slave that 
Yivia had given orders that there should be no 
intrusion on her privacy^ and had felt some alarm 
in consequence. 

“ Pardon me, dear Yivia,” said she as she 
kissed her forehead — “ pardon me if I intrude on 


The Struggle and the Sacrifice. 93 

your retirement ; but, in spite of Yerecunda’s as- 
surance to the contrary, I felt apprehensive on 
the score of your health, and am come to offer 
you my feeble services and best endeavors.” 

“ God be thanked, my dear Rufina, your fears 
are entirely groundless. Had I been indisposed 
I would have sent for you without delay. Can I 
ever forget all your kindness and care when it had 
pleased God to afflict me with suffering ? Some- 
how this evening I felt a desire for silence and 
privacy. You are aware ...” 

“May God preserve me from imprudence, dear 
Yivia ! I respect the secrets of your heart, and 
have no desire to pry into them ; but you look 
paler than usual, and your eyes still bear the 
traces ot recent tears. Dear lady, something dis- 
tresses you.’ I shall go and and pray that God 
may console you in your sorrows.” 

She turned to leave the room. 

“Stay by me, good Rufina,” exclaimed Yivia ; 
u do not leave me when I stand in especial need 
of your kindness. It was God that sent you to 
me. Can I hide anything from you ? Have I not 
given you my heart to read for years and years 
past ? Ah ! why pain me by questioning my 
confidence in you ? ” 

“ Dear Yivia, I have never wilfully given you 
the slightest pain, you have been always so good 
to me ! But there are sorrows that compel se- 
crecy and which may be told to God alone. In 
this world of exile, alas ! where is the heart that 


94 


The African Fabiola. 


has not been sometimes broken by some weighty 
sorrow, too deep for human utterance or consola- 
tion ? ” 

“ Dear and kind friend, I am in great distress 
indeed, but my distress is not .what you imagine, 
nor like anything in my past experience ; hitherto 
God in his mercy has always tempered and pro- 
portioned my trouble to my weakness. A terri- 
ble struggle has been going on within me, and I 
known not how it will end. I would like to be able 
to make the sacrifice gener.ously ; I feel that God 
demands it, and that my mind would then be 
easier and more at rest ; but my nature rebels and 
resists, and you know but too well how weak I am 
in such a struggle. Do help me, then, Rufina, 
and pity the young neophyte whom your prayers 
saved from death and perdition.” 

“God alone, dear friend, can give you the 
victory in this struggle, whatever it may be ; 
man’s voice is but a hollow and impotent echo. 
Can the reed resist the storm by leaning on an- 
other reed, or is the blind man’s foot more steady 
because another blind man leads him? Place 
your trust in God, from whom is all our strength. 
He requires not what is impossible, and his 
fatherly kindness always tempers the wind to 
the shorn lamb. By his assistance you conquered 
Satan and burst the chains of a long slavery. 
Victory is assured to you in virtue of the name 
and omnipotence of Jesus Christ.” 

“ How happy you are, Rufina, to have known 


The Struggle and the Sacrifice. 95 


and loved from childhood this holy religion that 
demands so much courage and virtue ! How 
often since my conversion have I envied you 
this happiness! Why was I called so late? 
Why was I born to a lofty station and to a name 
made illustrious by generations? ” 

“ I am at a loss to understand you, dear Vivia. 
If your call was a little later than mine, is that a 
proof that God was less good and merciful to you ? 
Is the sheep that he has gone in search of 
into the wilderness and has brought back on his 
own shoulders less an object of his love and care 
than the one that was born in the fold and never 
left it ? If he has bestowed on you an illustrious 
name and birth, remember that it is in your pow- 
er to increase their lustre, and that your example 
and courage must necessarily have great influence 
on the multitude. Who knows what incalcula- 
ble good you may be destined to do the Church 
of Jesus Christ, now so humble and despised?” 

“ What my future may be, I know not. But 
I have many reasons to fear it will be neither so 
holy nor so useful as your charity for me would 
fain make you believe ; but to come to the point, 
let me explain to you the gist of my difficulty 
and trouble. Well then, dear Rufina, you must 
know that Tertullian has been here and has most 
severely reprimanded me for the way I live, 
which, he says, is wholly unbecoming to a Chris- 
tian woman. Oh ! had you but heard him ! IIow 
severe his words ! How miserable I felt in his 


96 


The A frican Fabiola. 


presence ! How lie wounded me to tlie soul, 
especially when lie turned to go and said that I 
was breaking my dear mother’s heart and scan- 
dalizing all the Christians in Carthage ! Is it 
possible that I have been so wicked ? ” 

“It is not fcr me to judge you, dear Yivia. 
Being only an insignificant member of the flock, 
I have learned from my childhood fo listen, to 
obey, not to argue. For me the priest’s voice is 
sacred, his word that of God himself.” 

“ But to renounce and sacrifice the dress and 
ornaments that become me so well, and which, 
after all, are nothing but what suits my age and 
rank ! ” 

“ Are not modesty and simplicity a thousand 
times more precious ornaments to the Christian 
woman than those that fade with time and can be 
bought with gold \ One of our apostles forbids 
the use of these vain ornaments to the servants 
of Christ ; would this man, inspired by God him- 
self, have laid down this prohibition had the sub- 
ject of dress been a matter of indifference ? ” 

“ But, my dear Bufina, when I examine my 
own heart I can find nothing to accuse myself of 
on this score. It seems to me that I love with 
my whole heart the God whom you taught me to 
know, and that I regard it as the greatest misfor- 
tune to displease or offend him. Oh ! say, I be- 
seech you, that I am not a castaway.” 

“ Entertain not such a horrible thought ; it 
would be an outrage on God’s love. No, he has 


The Struggle and the Sacrifice. 97 


not cast you off, and tlie sacrifice which he now 
demands at your hands is but a new proof of his 
goodness to you ; lie wishes you to be all his. 
Oh ! how difficult it is to reconcile the perfect 
love required by him with attachment to the 
things and vanities of the world ! Let us not de- 
ceive ourselves, dear Yivia, nor lightly imagine 
that we are all innocence. Our heart is a deep 
and dark abyss into which we cannot peer very 
far ; but God’s eye fathoms it to its lowest depths, 
and there detects, perhaps, many blemishes which 
escape our feeble glance. Before that thrice holy 
God no man knows whether he be worthy of love 
or hatred 

“ How say you, dear Rufina ? You who have 
been so invariably kind, you who have loved 
me always like a mother, you now clothe yourself 
with severity, and your words are almost as harsh 
as Tertullian’s. You decide against me without 
mercy ; you require of me your own exalted 
standard of virtue and perfection, and that is too 
great for my strength. O Rufina ! you love me 
no longer.” 

And the young patrician burst into tears and 
cast herself into the arms of the pious freed- 
woman. 

“ God is my witness that I love you more than 
myself, and that, had I the power, I would gladly 
die a thousand deaths for your sake ; do me not, 
therefore, the injustice of questioning my affec- 
tion for you. You have condescended to permit 


98 


The A frican Fabiola. 


me to regard and love you as a child ; it was in 
virtue of this sacred title that I always gave you 
advice whenever you required it. Yivia, your 
faith is strong, your virtue beyond the possibility 
of a doubt ; but you are young, accustomed to 
ease, to flattery, and utterly inexperienced in the 
painful trials of life, and hence you have never 
yet learned to what sublime abnegation and heroic 
sacrifices must the soul aspire that has been once 
enlightened by God and called to practise the 
lofty maxims of the Gospel. Yivia, hearken no 
longer to the voice of nature and conquer your 
own heart ; this is a triumph worthy the daugh- 
ter of the model Christian mother, Julia ! ” 

“But what will the world say, Rufina ? I shall 
be accused of folly. ...” 

“ The wisdom of the world is but foolishness. 
The Christian is not the slave of the world, nor 
does he accept it as his judge; he bows only to 
the judgment of God alone. Remember, Yivia, 
that you are one day to give glorious testimony 
to Jesus Christ , and that your name is to be for 
ever great in his Church . Your destiny is exalt- 
ed indeed, and one that I should be tempted to 
envy were I not the lowest of the Lord’s ser- 
vants.” 

“ O Rufina ! it shall never be said that Yivia 
was so fickle and ungrateful as to thwart the glo- 
rious destiny marked out for her by Providence. 
How or in what way I am to bear testimony to 
Christ my Saviour I know not, but, at all events, 


The Struggle and the Sacrifice. 99 

I am ready and willing to do so, even if it be re- 
quired of me to write it in my blood. 0 Rufina ! 
my generous friend, my second mother, to whom 
I owe more than life, to-day you give birth anew 
to your loved Yivia; through you God will tri- 
umph in my heart. Will he forgive my long re- 
sistance to his graces % ” 

“ Fear not, Yivia ; God’s love is infinitely mer- 
ciful. Obedience and sacrifice will ensure pardon. 
Let us unite in thanking God for his goodness ; 
let us praise him with all the angels and saints.” 

Yivia fell on her knees, and with tears and 
prayers asked God’s pardon for the past, promis- 
ing at the same time that in future her life should 
be one of mortification and retirement. The 
pious Rufina knelt and prayed by her side; she 
seemed like an angel uniting her pure and un- 
sullied accents to the ever imperfect prayers of a 
child of Adam. 

Both remained long on their knees communing 
with God, for they both felt very happy — the 
one for having found courage and strength to 
make the sacrifice, the other for having at last 
found her beloved child in God entirely submis- 
sive to the yoke of Jesus Christ. As it was now 
high time to retire for the night, the two sepa- 
rated after having tenderly embraced each other. 
Yivia had formed a grand and heroic resolution 
such as faith alone can inspire. The angels could 
now weave her crown of martyrdom. 



CHAPTEK VI. 

THE PLOT. 

A few days after the events above narrated 
two men met at the distance of only a few paces 
from Vivia’s mansion. They were busily en- 
gaged in planning a wicked scheme that would 
one day culminate in the most disastrous re- 
sults. 

It has been already stated that Tertullian, 
upon leaving Vivia, had met the high-priest of 
Carthage issuing from the temple. The sight 
had fired the ardent soul of the great Apologist, 
and had made him cast a look of indignation and 
contempt on the miserable pontiff of paganism. 
Olympianus (for such was the higli-priest’s name) 
hated the Christians, as a matter of course, and 
Tertullian’s contemptuous look wounded him to 
the quick ; but in dealing with a man of Tertul- 
lian’s fame the pontiff readily understood that 
prudence and caution were necessary. His ulcer- 
ated heart cried for deep revenge, but for a re- 
venge that, while it would be sure, would entail 
no evil on himself. Being as cowardly as he 
100 


The Plot. 


101 


was rancorous, lie had resolved to bide his time and 
watch his opportunity. Meanwhile he consoled 
himself with the thought that, sooner or later, 
said opportunity would certainly present itself. 

Already Christianity had made rapid progress 
in spite of all the opposition of human wisdom, 
and, what was worse still, of the profound and 
universal corruption of morals. Even where it 
had suffered most it had succeeded in tiring out 
the violence of its enemies. The blood of the 
martyrs was the seed that invariably brought 
forth a new crop of Christians. Like a young 
oak on a mountain-top, which, while it bends to 
the storm and seems doomed to destruction, only 
strikes its roots broader and deeper into the 
rocky soil ; its trunk grows higher and higher, 
until at last its lofty head woos a calmer air above 
the clouds, and seems to look down upon and 
laugh at the storm; thus, too, had Christianity 
grown and spread in spite of all obstacles ; it had 
invaded the village, the city, the camp, the tri- 
bunal, the senate, and the vei^y palace of the 
Csesars. The old paganism, as a system of wor- 
ship, had grown effete and was living out its 
slow agony in temples now almost empty, and at 
the feet of abandoned and despised idols. To 
give it a semblance of activity and life it became 
necessary to employ all the excitement of the 
savage games of the amphitheatre, the combats of 
wild beasts, the feast of martyrs’ blood flooding 
the arena. 


102 


The African Fabiola. 


Carthage, like Rome and Athens, had her 
apostles at a very early day. A few slaves and 
poor people formed its first Christian congrega- 
tion. But soon some noble and wealthy families 
embraced the new doctrines, and every day served 
to swell the number of Christ’s flock. Not only 
in the city but in all the neighboring provinces 
churches were founded and committed to the 
care of saintly bishops. The Church of Carthage 
grew apace and soon became a metropolitan see. 
After the lapse of one century its primate pre- 
sided at a provincial council which was composed 
of no less than three hundred of his suffragan 
bishops. 

Being so far from Rome, and separated from 
the West by the sea, Carthage had never engraft- 
ed on her civilization their ideas, manners, and 
customs, and hence she had not hitherto followed 
their example by persecuting the Christians. If 
we except an occasional cry raised against them 
in the temples at the instigation of the priests, or 
a passing slur flung at them, as a mere matter of 
form, in the senate, nothing was done against the 
Christians or their assemblies. Their places of 
meeting were well known, and the worshippers 
took little or no precautions to avoid notice. But 
a slighted passion and wounded pride were des- 
tined to disturb this long peace very soon. 

At this time there lived in Carthage a wealthy 
and influential young man named Jubal. He 
was tall, handsome, and well educated, but hot- 


The Plot. 


103 


beaded, impatient, and irascible. At an early 
date be bad flung himself headlong into the vor- 
tex ol pleasure ; at twenty-five be seemed to have 
drained to its dregs the cup of criminal indul- 
gence ; be feared neither the gods nor men ; be 
ridiculed the first and haughtily scorned the se- 
cond. Hence be spurned all restraint, and oppo- 
sition to bis lawless desires only aroused bis angry 
passions — nay, be sometimes made use of the dag- 
ger of a slave to make away with those who in- 
curred bis resentment or thwarted bis designs. 

An acquaintance, based rather on courtesy than 
friendship, bad long existed between bis father 
and Yivia’s. They both loved good clieer, and 
indulged in it as the enjoyment most suitable and 
befitting to their station and years. As they 
spent much time at the table and occasionally in- 
vited thereto some younger men, Jubal had some- 
times sat at Ilanno’s board, and in this way bad 
chanced to see Yivia before she was married. 

He had not been insensible to the charms of 
the patrician maiden ; her beauty, set off as it 
was by costly garments, her ready wit and conver- 
sational powers, had made a deep impression on 
bis heart. One day, as be chanced to sit by her at 
table, be felt emboldened in bis conceitedness to 
whisper to her some words borrowed from the re- 
pertory of phrases which } r oung libertines have 
always ready on their lips. Yivia, aglow with 
indignation and modesty, courageously resented 
the insult, and, casting a withering glance of con- 


104 


The African Fabiola. 


tempt at him, “ The dove’ s place’’ said she, rising 
“ is not near the hawk ! ” She then took a seat 
by her mother. 

Shame and rage choked the voice of the imper- 
tinent Jubal. In spite of all his pride and ef- 
frontery he could not articulate a single word. 
He grew pale with anger for an instant and bent 
a satanic look upon Vivia. Those who noticed 
him expected one of his usual outbursts of pas- 
sion when angered, but, to their surprise, he 
simply slunk away, muttering to himself as he 
went. Yivia trembled,, and, for the first time in 
her life, she felt afraid of the young libertine, on 
whom hitherto she had never bestowed a thought 
save one of contempt. 

Jubal retired with vengeance in his heart ; the 
words of the young patrician were ringing con- 
tinually in his ears ; the noble pride of her glance, 
the mortal affront received, the mocking smiles 
with which his humiliation had been welcomed, 
were like so many fiery arrows in his vitals. In 
vain did he seek to divert his thoughts by a long 
walk along the beach, and forgetfulness in the fa- 
cile pleasures of his rank — nothing could lay the 
demon in his breast, and the image of the haughty 
Yivia haunted him everywhere. The darkness 
and quiet of the night were powerless to calm 
his feverish agitation; even during his short 
snatches of heavy and troubled slumber he in- 
variably imagined he heard the hated words, 
“ The dove’s place is not near the hawk J ” 


The Plot 


105 


A hundred times liad he thought of summoning 
•nis faithful JBravo to revenge him ; but Yivia be- 
longed to an influential family that would not 
allow such an outrage to go unpunished. He 
alone would be suspected of guiding the assassin’s 
hand", and would inevitably be brought before 
the criminal judge; this judge was a near kins- 
man to Hanno, and consequently would be inte- 
rested in his condemnation and punishment. The 
slave was certainly devoted to him, but, in case 
of arrest for the assassination, he might lose cou- 
rage when put to the torture and divulge the 
name of him who had given the poignard and 
designated the heart in which he was to bury it. 
The proud young man was afraid of death, and 
so had to devise other means of revenge. 

There are men who will stoop to anything to 
attain their object. Devoid of principle and 
honor, and loving nothing in the world save 
themsel^ps, they refuse to employ nothing that 
may procure them success in satisfying the crav- 
ings of their passions. Jubal was one of these. 
His wounded pride required either Yivia’s dis- 
honor or her blood in revenge for the insult done 
him. To compass this, the villain disguised his 
hatred, played the role of convert to morality, 
and became the constant eulogist of Yivia’s vir- 
tue and purity. Feigning great attachment to 
and respect for her, as well as sincere regret for 
having unwittingly offended her, he had sent a 
friend of both families to demand her hand in 


106 


The African 'Fabiola. 


marriage. In case of compliance lie had resolved 
to rid himself of her bj poison, and thus his ven- 
geance would be satisfied while her fortune would 
serve to procure him every luxury and pleasure. 
But Yivia not only rejected his suit with disgust, 
but had succeeded in having him refused access 
to the house. 

Such was the man whom the high-priest of 
Carthage had now sought. He was well aware of 
Jubal’s hatred to Yivia, and so persuaded himself 
that he had but to encourage the young man’s 
evil propensities to make him a ready and will- 
ing tool. Olympianus was too cunning and 
guarded to betray aught of his private resent- 
ment to Tertullian ; Jubal would only have 
laughed at him. His plan was to fan Jubal’s 
hatred against his haughty enemy to induce him 
to denounce and arraign her before the governor 
as amenable to the law by professing a proscrib- 
ed religion, and in this way to give the signal 
for a persecution. Were this once set on foot he 
had every hope that, as the victims would be 
many, Tertullian’s blood would avenge his own 
slighted, and wounded feelings. 

“ Jubal,” said the liigli-priest, “ you are aware 
that the ancient religion of our forefathers is 
falling into disrepute ; the tutelary gods of Car- 
thage, that bestowed on us so much glory, in- 
fluence, and wealth, are being shamefully ne- 
glected ; solitude and silence begin to reign in 
their temples, while little more than the sacri- 


The Plot . 


107 


fice of a few victims on great days is now seen 
there.” 

“ Is it only to listen to your ridiculous lamen- 
tations,” replied the choleric Jubal, “ that you 
have brought me hither ? What do I care about 
your religion ? If your gods grow decrepit, is it 
my business to make them young again ? If 
they cannot help themselves you ought to ac- 
knowledge rather that they are very contempti- 
ble gods and deserve richly the disgrace and con- 
tempt into which you say they are fallen. Let 
me tell you that I regard your Jupiter, your 
Apollo, and the rest of them, as mere men who 
died long ago, and I care no more about them 
than I would for the carcass of the vilest slave. 
The only god I want is pleasure ; why should we 
set up others through ignorance, superstition and 
fear?” 

“ Jubal, I know that your notions regarding 
the gods are shared in by many ; philosophers 
and sages have thought as you do, and, to be 
candid, I must confess that many of our own 
priests privately scoff at our creed, and that it is 
only their personal interests that induce them to 
retain their lucrative offices. I myself would be 
willing enough to let our immortal gods die ; 
but what I cannot bear and what must shock 
even yourself, is that a new religion, coined by 
an obscure Jew who was ignominiously put to 
death for his crimes, aims at lording it over the 
entire world, and marches so arrogantly and de- 


108 


The A frican Fabiola. 


fiantly to enjoy the triumph that it so confidently 
promises to itself. Jubal, this religion is spread- 
ing from day to day ; it has already wriggled 
itself into some of the first families in the city, 
and your mother, it is said . . . 

“ Yes, my mother, like a great many other 
ladies, belongs to the new sect and makes no 
secret about it. I will tell you, furthermore, 
that she would like very much to make me join 
it, under the pretext of reforming my morals, 
which she is pleased to think a little too lax. 
Poor woman ! it is only what may be expected, 
for she has long since forgotten that she was 
once young herself ; at her time of life pleasure 
is out of season, and so she has become smitten 
by an insane love for this new religion ; she has 
exchanged one superstition for another, that is 
all. Let us hear your business ; I have no time 
to lose and am on my way to a jovial party. 
What are you driving at, and why do you bother 
me with such nonsense ? ” 

“ That is the way with all you young men ; 
ye are so full of fire, impatience, and restless- 
ness, that ye want old men to be in just as much 
of a hurry as yourselves. Go, then, Jubal, rush 
away to your boon companions, they are wait- 
ing for you very impatiently no doubt ; you are 
the leader, the master of all their feasts. . . . My 
object was to talk to you about Yivia, that 
haughty patrician that scorned your proposal and 
thus deliberately added another insult to the old 


The Plot. 


109 


one. . . . But I must not detain yon, as you are 
in such a hurry to attend to far pleasanter busi- 
ness.” 

At the name of Yivia Jubal sprang from his 
seat like a tiger when he sees his prey : his breast 
heaved with a hood of hatred and revenge. 

“ Yivia ! ” he hoarsely cried, “ Yivia ! that 
hated name fills me with rage and opens a wound 
so deep that two years have not been able to heal 
it. Why do you speak of Yivia ? What have 
you to say to me about her ? ” 

“ That, like your mother, she is a Christian.” 

“ Her contempt and coyness made me suspect 
it. I recognize in this that hypocritical sect that 
pretends to despise all pleasure and to practise 
such absurd self-denial. Well, I ask once more 
what do you want ? ” 

“ Jubal, can you not understand? Meantime 
yon burn for revenge, and the bare mention of 
her made you tremble with rage only a moment 
ago. If you hate her so deeply, if you wish to be 
revenged on her, what stops you? She is a 
Christian, I repeat; denounce her to the gover- 
nor and demand the enforcement of the law.” 

u Ho you imagine the governor is not aware 
that there are Christians in Carthage? He 
knows it just as well as you and I. But as they 
pay their taxes and appear to respect his authori- 
ty he lets them alone, and, after all, he is right. 
In my opinion the Christians have as much right 
to adore their crucified God as you and your fel- 


110 


The African Fabiola. 


lows have to adore the gods of jour Olympus. 
Simple old man, you talk to me about revenge 
and you have nothing better to suggest than a 
ridiculous and clumsy plan ! Never mind, Jubal 
has struck on something better ; he does not 
wish to share with any man the satisfaction of 
punishing Yivia’s insolence and contempt.” 

“ Then why have you waited so long < Confiding 
in the influence of her family and the protection 
of a husband for whom she jilted you, she quietly 
laughs at your impotent and wordy anger as if 
you were nothing more than the meanest slave in 
the city.” 

The crafty old man here paused to see what 
effect his words would produce on the young 
nobleman. Jubal’s face flushed scarlet; the 
blow had told home. 

“ She defies me ! ” cried he after a pause ; “she 
dares me ! she trusts for protection to her name, 
to the reputation of the soldier-husband of whom 
she is proud to be the wife ! Well, then, I swear 
that, before many days, there will be blood spilled 
in that powerful family, even if I have to pay for 
that blood with my head.” 

“ Be avenged, Jubal, it is your duty and. your 
right ; but you need not pay such a price for even 
so sweet a revenge. Let me give you a friendly 
and prudent advice. It has been currently re- 
ported that Yivia’s husband permitted himself to 
be cajoled by the honeyed talk of a certain Ter- 
tullian, who is a priest and the oracle of his ac - 


The Plot. 


Ill 


cursed sect. I know to & certain t} 7 that previous 
to his departure for the army he had many pri- 
vate interviews with him, and had a decided 
leaning toward the new religion. Since then I 
have been assured that he made no secret of it in 
camp, and that our soldiers are equally outspoken 
in their dissatisfaction. This has caused much 
discontent and bickering, and hence it would be 
very easy to direct the minds of the soldiers to a 
solution of all these difficulties ; and when Vivia 
would be a widow ...” 

“ It would be easier to stab her !” 

“ Jubal, passion is blind in a young and fiery 
bosom like yours. I repeat, be revenged, but do 
not needlessly expose yourself to danger. When 
Yivia shall be a widow, go to her boldly and ask 
once more for her hand. If she repeats her 
haughty refusal, then lose no time; denounce 
her as a Christian in the presence of the governor 
and the senate. If necessary I can hound on some 
of the mob to shout as they do in Rome — The 
Christians to the lions! Then you have only to 
sit in the amphitheatre and glut your eyes and 
your vengeance in the streaming blood of your 
proud enemy.” 

Had the young nobleman been able to see the 
heart and the motives that actuated the pagan 
priest in fomenting his anger and thirst for re- 
venge, that his object was Tertullian’s, not Yi- 
via’ s, destruction, he would have spurned both 
him and his suggestions. But he was duped into 


112 


The African Fabiola . 


the belief that the hoary old reprobate was simply 
aiding him to be revenged on the woman he de- 
tested ; the thought of gloating over her agonies 
and blood in a public amphitheatre so over- 
powered him with anticipated pleasure that it 
made him deaf and blind to every other consid- 
eration. 

“Well, then, all I ask is that I shall be able to 
say that it was I that compassed her death and de- 
struction. This is my claim and my revenge ; I 
shall be satisfied when I shall behold the lions tear- 
ing her limb from limb. Yes, Vivia dared to in- 
sult and defy Jubal; let her then prepare her 
tears, and when the dagger shall ln.ve pierced the 
heart of my successful rival, then will the hawk 
attack the dove , and her mournful complaints 
shall not save her from his sharp talons.” 

The two wretches had arrived at a mutual un- 
derstanding ; they could now go their ways. The 
old priest sought repose. In his imagination he 
already saw Tertullian in chains on the rack ; 
he heard the death sentence, and his ulcerated 
heart swelled at the thought. Jubal sought his 
usual company, where he was received with bois- 
terous chidings and welcomes. He drank deeply 
as usual, but, to their great surprise and contrary 
to his habit, he withdrew before midnight and 
long before the debauch w T as over. Their sur- 
prise and commentaries were not ended before 
Jubal had found and accosted his slave. 

“ Afer, your master seeks to be revenged.” 


The Plot. 


113 


“ When did your faithful slave ever refuse 
you % ” 

“ I can rely on you, I know, when I pay you 
well ; men like you regulate their actions accord- 
ing to their interests ; your services when wanted 
must be bought with gold.” 

“ A poor slave like me is not personally inte- 
rested in the quarrels of his master. If, then, he 
exposes himself to danger in his cause is it not 
right that he should be paid ? Do you reckon as 
nothing the violence he must needs do to himself 
in order to shed the blood of a man or woman 
that never did him any harm ? A few days ago, 
for instance, when you ordered me to stab that 
young Christian slave who was foolish enough to 
refuse the honor proffered her by you, when I 
found her only a weak, poor thing the dagger 
shook in my hand ; and when I heard her dying 
words : Unhappy man , what have I done to you ? 
a strang'e shudder ran through me, and as I fled 
I said to myself : Afer , you are following a load 
trade ! ” 

“ A truce to your hypocrisy, you old rascal ? ” 
said Jubal with a sneer; “your soul is as black as 
your* hide, and your heart, if you have one, is as 
cold and as unfeeling as the steel of your dagger. 
For a handful of gold or your freedom you 
would murder your own master. Gold then you 
shall have more than ever before, and if your 
hand does its work well this time I will set you 
free in due and legal form.” 


114 The African Fabiola . 

4 4 Gold! gold! O master, how beautiful is 
gold, how it gladdens the heart ! But liberty ! 
that is worth all the gold on earth. Then could I 
see once more my native woods and flowing 
streams ; the air and broad plains of my youth 
would restore vigor to my limbs and elasticity to 
my sinews. I would again pursue the fleet gazelle 
and would once more encounter the desert lion ! 
Haste, master, to make known your wishes; 
name your victim that I may run to strike the 
blow and rush back to gain gold and liberty.” 

44 You shall have both, Afer, provided your 
dagger does not miss the heart you are to strike. 
But you must remember that this time your busi- 
ness is not with a coy maiden or an old slave 
guardingher mistress; it is with a sturdy soldier, 
the general of our troops in Humidia, the hus- 
band of Yivia. His guards love and are devoted 
to him. Yet there are fault-finders and grum- 
blers in his camp ; he is strongly suspected of a 
leaning towards the new sect, called Christians, 
and our old veterans are indignant at it. Chime 
in with the malcontents ; you are full of cunning, 
as I am well aware, and you will require it all to 
ensure the success of our project. Be deliberate 
in your haste, mature well your plans ; for if you 
make the slightest mistake, a single word or sign 
from Jarbas would be enough to send you to 
your fathers, if indeed your fathers have a place 
in the land of ghosts. Have a care not to di- 
vulge the fact that you belong to me ; you might 


The Plot. 


115 


be suspected and the torture might wrench from 
you your secret. Assume whatever name you 
think best and explain your motive for visiting 
the army in such a way as to preclude inquisitive 
curiosity. It will take you three or four days to 
get there ; so you will have plenty time to think 
over and arrange your plans on your journey. 
Let me charge you once more to be cautious ; do 
not strike until you find your man alone and 
asleep, then strike so quickly and aim so straight 
that he will not be able to have time to utter 
even a cry. You understand me, Afer? Go, 
and do not wait for daylight, so that you may leave 
the city unnoticed. Here is gold for you, and re- 
member that when you will be able to say to me 
on your return : My dagger formd your enemy's 
heart , I will give you twenty times as much as 
this contains. 

He handed his purse to the slave, who grasped 
it greedily and soon transferred it to his belt. 

“ Generous master,” said he, “ the noble Yivia 
may prepare her mourning weeds and choose an- 
other husband if she will. Before the moon shall 
have finished her monthly course Afer will have 
avenged the powerful Jubal, and will be back to 
demand the reward of his fidelity and services.” 

The city was still buried in darkness and her 
inhabitants in slumber when the slave set forth 
and sped along the road on his way to the camp. 



CHAPTEE VII. 

BISHOP NARCISSUS. 

While these plots were being hatched in silence' 
the Church of Carthage, suspecting no danger, 
had abandoned itself to great rejoicing. From 
all parts of the city the Christians flocked to a 
grand gathering of the faithful. This was to be 
held in a spacious villa near the mouth of the har- 
bor, the property of a wealthy widow, a near kins- 
woman of the bishop. It was beautifully situated ; 
on the land side it was sheltered by dense woods, 
while seaward it commanded a magnificent view 
of the water, which rolled and rippled up to kiss 
the sward and the feet of the beholder. As the 
crowd was too large to find room in any one room 
of the house, it was thought expedient to erect 
an altar at the end of a long alley overshadowed 
by trees just then bursting into leaf. To the 
right and left of the altar, and slightly raised above 
the place set apart for the clergy, there were two 
covered seats ; from this it was evident that some 
foreign bishop was on a visit to the primate of the 
metropolis. 


116 


Bishop Narcissus . 


117 


The prayers preparatory to the Holy Sacrifice 
were recited in the deepest recollection. Thanks 
were given to God for the prolonged peace vouch- 
safed to the Church of Africa, for the steady and 
rapid increase of the faith ; a memento was made 
for all the churches, but more especially for those 
suffering persecution, where the martyrs needed 
strength and confessors patience to bear the 
weight of their chains, the pains of exile, and the 
toil of the mines. Petitions were offered for the 
pagans, that their eyes might be opened to the 
light, and they be brought to the fold of Christ ; 
that the emperors, while they triumphed over the 
enemies of the empire, might themselves be con- 
quered to the cross and cease from their futile ef- 
forts of two centuries to overthrow it. Upon the 
recommendation of their respective pastors many 
were formally admitted to the class of catechu- 
mens, to be prepared by instruction and retreat of 
the grace of baptism. It was now the hour for 
the celebration of the sacred mysteries. 

First came the aged Optatus, Bishop of Car- 
thage ; he was followed by a venerable prelate, 
who, in spite of his hundred years, walked steadi- 
ly and erect, bearing a pastoral staff, symbol of 
his authority and office. Despite his advanced age 
he ascended the steps to the altar with a firm 
tread and began the Holy Sacrifice. Faith and 
piety were written in every feature of his mild 
and noble countenance, while his deep humility 
and ardent charity made the tears swell up from 


118 


The African FaMola. 


his great heart and trickle on his silvery heard. 
Was it an illusion? or did God wish to make a 
public manifestation of his servant’s holiness? 
Be this as it may, certain it is that many of the 
assistants affirmed that at the moment when, with 
hands trembling with reverential fear, he raised 
the consecrated host, a snow-white dove hovered 
around his head and girded it with a shining 
glory. The catechumens having retired as usual 
before the canon of the Mass, all the faithful re- 
ceived the Eucharistic Sacrament according to the 
rule then followed ; after this a hymn of thanks- 
giving recited in common terminated the service. 

But who was this venerable bishop, whom no 
one could recollect to have ever before seen in 
Carthage ? Whence came he ? What could be the 
object of his visit ? The pallium worn by him at 
the Holy Sacrifice showed that he held a high posi- 
tion in the hierarchy of the Church, and yet when 
he had put off his vestments he appeared in the 
plain and humble garb of a hermit. Bespect for 
the sacred mysteries had hitherto restrained curi- 
osity, still every one waited impatiently for the 
moment when he would address them some words 
of greeting and blessing. But as the old man’s 
modesty probably allowed him to say but little 
of himself, and as we are not equally as anxious 
as he was to hide his great virtues, we will en- 
deavor to make him known to the reader. 

He was called Narcissus, and was born in the 
first century of the Church. He might have, 


Bishop Narcissus. 


119 


and perhaps had, heard the voice of the Prophet 
of Patmos; he had conversed with the immedi- 
ate successors of the apostles, such as St. Clement, 
St. Polycarp, and St. Ignatius of Antioch; he 
had frequently consoled St. Potliinus of Lyons in 
his prison, and had been an eye-witness of his 
martyrdom. Narcissus was now in his one hun- 
dred and twelfth year. Having been born of 
Christian parents and trained to the love of vir- 
tue, he became an orphan at an early age. He 
made use of his liberty in visiting the most 
celebrated churches of his day and in studying 
the doctrines of Christianity in the schools of the 
apostolic men who, happily, still lived and shone 
like beacon-lights in the Church of Jesus Christ. 
In this way he amassed an immense fund of 
ecclesiastical lore. Unfortunately for posterity, 
he left no writings, at least none have come 
down to our times. 

Nature had not been sparing of her gifts to 
him. He was tall, his features regular and man- 
ly; his broad and high forehead would have given 
him an air of haughtiness had it not been toned 
by the mildness of his glance and smiling lips ; 
his countenance was frank and open, like that of 
a man who has nothing to hide or disguise ; his 
voice was clear and ringing, and his affability and 
quiet cheerfulness gave a charm to his conversa- 
tion which neither age nor misfortune could dim. 
And yet this man had suffered cruel injustice. 
At the time of our introduction to him age had 


120 


The African Fabiola. 


given him a slight stoop, indeed, but it had not 
diminished his vigor. His locks were thin and 
floated on his shoulders, while a beard white as 
snow swept his breast and gave him an air of 
venerable dignity which involuntarily compelled 
respect. His moral purity, the reputation gained 
by his vast erudition, his zeal in defending the 
faith against the attacks of nascent heresy, had 
caused him to be raised to the priesthood in spite 
of his own reluctance and opposition. Polycarp 
of Smyrna had imposed hands upon him, in the 
hope of attaching him to his own church ; but 
Narcissus fled to Jerusalem, in order to hide him- 
self in obscurity and poverty. God, however, 
had other designs on him. The place of his con- 
cealment was made known, and, a few years after, 
the clergy and people of Jerusalem unanimously 
demanded that he should be made their bishop. 
His entreaties and tears were unavailing, he 
was forced to occupy the patriarchal see first 
held by the apostle St. James. 

In spite of all his efforts the fame of his virtues, 
his liberality, and wonderful miracles had spread 
far and near. With the sign of the cross or the 
touch of his hand he cured the sick, gave sight to 
the blind, hearing to the deaf, and speech to the 
dumb. Full of that faith that can move moun- 
tains, the elements and nature implicitly obeyed 
Narcissus. 

Once, on the vigil of Easter, as the people were 
assembling for the celebration of the Divine Of- 


Bishop Narcissus. 


121 


fice, the deacons found there was no oil to feed 
the lamps. As none could be procured, the 
clergy and people felt very much annoyed ; not so 
the holy patriarch. “Bring some water,” said 
he quietly, “ from the nearest fountain.” When 
it was brought he lifted up his eyes, uttered a 
short prayer, and then, turning to the ministers, 
“ Now pour this into the lamps with a firm and 
sincere faith, and remember that Christ our Lord 
changed water into wine at the marriage feast of 
Cana.” To the astonishment of the entire con- 
gregation the water was changed into pure oil, 
and all the lamps were filled. According to the 
testimony of Eusebius of Caesarea, some of this 
miraculous oil was preserved for more than a 
hundred years in Jerusalem. 

However, neither his eminent virtues nor great 
age were sufficient to shield him from the hatred 
of some wicked and profligate men who vowed 
vengeance on the holy bishop. Their animosity 
was aroused against him because he had the cou- 
rage to do his duty and reprimand them for their 
crimes. Their first thought was to assassinate the 
venerable old man ; nothing was easier, since his 
humble dwelling was open to all day and night. 
When fatigue obliged him to interrupt his prayers 
and studies he simply laid down on a mat, with- 
out undressing, and there rested for two or three 
hours* But the fiendish enemies of Narcissus 
desired revenge, and his death would not satisfy 
them, for they knew his dearest wish was to die 


122 


The African FaMola. 


and go to heaven, so that he used to complain 
lovingly to God of having been forgotten here 
below and having been left at his post beyond the 
usual time. 

The evil spirit, that from the beginning has 
always taken delight in calumny as well as in 
blood-7— thus justifying his title to the name of 
liar and murderer given to him in the Scriptures 
— suggested to them a revenge far more painful 
to the tender heart of the saint. From his ten- 
derest years Narcissus had given evidence of liis 
great love of purity. He had been exposed to 
many dangers and temptations, had travelled far 
and constantly, had seen all the gay world and its 
seductions, and had passed through all unscathed. 
The demon of pleasure had tried all his wiles and 
arts in vain ; mortification and prayer had pre- 
served the innocence of his young heart in all its 
virginal freshness and purity. Hence there was 
no hope of deluding such a man, now a centena- 
rian ; he could be slandered, however; his beauti- 
ful life and fair name might be blackened and the 
diadem of purity torn from his brow, at least in 
the estimation of the world. 

At this time there lived in Jerusalem a woman 
who had long been a scandal in the city by rea- 
son of her dissolute life. She lived in the o’reat- 
est dissipation and extravagance, and thus squan- 
dered immense sums of ill-gotten money, together 
with her own health and beauty. Dissipation 
brought on sickness and premature old age ; her 


Bishop Narcissus. 


123 


dupes and flatterers abandoned her to destitution 
and misery. Urged by want rather than by a 
sincere repentence for her sins, she astonished 
everybody by making application to Narcissug’ 
predecessor for public penance and baptism. At 
the expiration of the probation required in such 
cases she was received into the Church and placed 
on the list of the needy who were supported by 
the charity of the faithful. 

Her accent and manners showed that this 
woman was a stranger ; but no one could tell 
whence she came or what was her history. All 
that was known of her was that she had arrived 
in Jerusalem when she was young and beautiful ; 
that she was constantly attended by a whole re- 
tinue of trembling slaves who obeyed her as if she 
were a very queen ; that she had established her- 
self in the most fashionable quarter of the city, in 
a mansion provided with every luxury that money 
could procure, and which soon became the very 
temple of scandalous dissipation and revelry. 
In the days of her splendor the haughty courtesan 
was one of the foremost in deriding and reviling 
that- Church from which in the time of need she 
had to beg for daily bread. Many suspected the 
sincerity of her conversion, and time did not dis- 
pel their doubts. They made no secret of their 
opinion, which was that she had asked to be bap- 
tized and frequented the cliurch only to obtain aid 
from the funds of the poor of Christ; so true is 
it that, no matter how impenetrable be the mask 


124 


The African Fahiola. 


worn by hypocrisy, the real face concealed behind 
it can never be entirely hidden. 

Such a woman was invaluable to the men who 
hated and had sworn to make the patriarch pay 
dearly for having wounded and humbled their 
pride. They had wealth and influence, and knew 
the power of both these engines to attain their 
object. Having arranged their plans, they re- 
paired at night to the beggar’s cottage. At first 
she was startled at the presence, of three strangers 
at such an unusual hour ; but soon her eyes 
sparkled with fiendish satisfaction ; she saw gold 
in these men’s hands ; her covetous and greedy 
looks had not escaped their notice, and they argued 
favorably from it for the success of their scheme. 

“ Old woman,” said one of them boldly, “ we 
know who you are ; we knew you very well when 
you passed under the assumed name of hand- 
some Juno , when your youth and beauty drew 
around you a crowd of Jews and pagans, whom 
you fleeced and ruined without enriching your- 
self. We witnessed your mad extravagances; 
you revelled in jewels and gold ; no king’s table 
was more royally spread than yours, and your 
dwelling was more richly furnished than a palace. 
What have you of all this in your old age ? 
Nothing but this miserable and dilapidated hut 
and that poor pallet. The crust you eat must be 
hard and bitter indeed ; it is the bread of charity, 
the wages of lying and hypocrisy. Do not- try to 
deceive us by false protestations ; in the secret of 


Bishop Narcissus. 


125 


your heart you never abjured the religion of your 
ancestors ; you are a Christian only in name, as 
every man and woman in the city is perfectly 
aware ; the very bishop is so persuaded of this 
that he will refuse you in future the humiliating 
pittance heretofore thrown to you. What will 
become of you ? However, if you feel so dis- 
posed you can gain money enough, this very day, 
to return to your country, to purchase a slave to 
wait on you, and to practise without molestation 
the religion in which you were bred. Agree to 
serve us and these purses shall be yours, and will 
make you -independently rich for the rest of your 
life.” 

The wicked creature gladly accepted their terms 
and promised implicit obedience to their wishes. 
She must blast with her poisonous breath the 
name of the venerable Narcissus ; then would he 
become the object of the people’ s^scorn and con- 
tempt, instead of being, as he was now, their idol 
and saint. She bound herself to accomplish this 
by swearing an oath so fearful that it was consid- 
ered by the very pagans to be inviolably sacred. 

On the following day strange rumors were cir- 
culated among the class of the needy belonging 
to the Church. Such persons are always ready to 
pay attention to the most absurd accusations 
against their benefactors. It was reported that 
the patriarch had, surreptitiously and by pre- 
tending to a character which he had not, caused 
himself to be nominated to the see of Jerusalem ; 


126 The African Fabiola . 

that his conduct in youth had been very reprehen- 
sible, and that it was to satisfy his passions, not 
to acquire learning as he pretended, that he had 
wandered from place to place. As usual these re- 
ports acquired volume by repetition ; the people 
became excited, and indignation became louder 
and more violent until a riot became imminent. 

The next day matters grew worse. A crowd 
of beggars gathered before the patriarch’s house 
and loudly demanded his deposition as unworthy 
of the prelacy. “Put him out!” they cried; 
“ expel him from the Church and the city ! He is a 
villain ! He is a ravening wolf that has usurped 
the shepherd’s crook only to destroy the flock.” 
Narcissus came forth and endeavored to quell the 
tumult, but his voice was drowned by the clamor, 
all he could do was to raise his eyes to heaven, 
thus mutely appealing to God in asseveration of 
his innocence. 

At this juncture a woman wrinkled and bent 
with age made her way through the crowd, to- 
gether with three men. Jerking herself into an 
erect position and facing Narcissus : “Wretch,” 
she cried, “ do you recognize me % Do you recog- 
nize in the woman so changed by years and misfor- 
tune the modest and virtuous maiden whom you 
seduced and then basely forsook after you had dis- 
honored her ? Do you recognize in her who went 
so long by the name of handsome Juno the bash- 
ful, innocent, and pure maiden known to her pa- 
rents as Lucilia ? I was their joy and their pride ; 


Bishop Narcissus. 


127 


you and your wickedness made me their disgrace ; 
they were ashamed of me and drove me from their 
door. Speak, do you recognize the gentle and 
modest Lucilia ? ” 

Then, turning to the people: “ This man,” 
screamed she, “ this monster, came to Corinth, 
where I was born. That is now nearly sixty 
years ago. I was then in my fifteenth year. He 
came, as he said, to collect the traditions left by 
the apostle Paul. Being Christians and holding 
a respectable position in societ} r , my parents re- 
ceived him with open arms. Their hospitality 
was soon repaid by the blackest perfidy. He saw 
me and I pleased him. Too confiding, alas, my 
mother placed me under his care to be instructed 
in the*Christian doctrine, as I was then preparing 
for baptism. He took advantage of my youth 
and inexperience. . . . Some months after- 

wards he departed, to perpetrate new villanies no 
doubt. As for me, I was dishonored, ruined, 
spurned from my mother’s bosom. I wandered 
aimlessly and in despair through all the provinces 
of Greece, parading from city to city the depravi- 
ty taught me by this man, until I became tired 
of my wandering life, and so, leaving Athens, I 
came to this place ; you all know the rest. On 
this man then, on the base Narcissus, be all the 
misfortunes of my youth ! On him be this life of 
guilt and scandal which he has caused ! On him 
be the shame that has hitherto been the lot of his 
unhappy victim ! ” 


128 The African Fabiola. 

The holy bishop, upheld by the testimony of 
his conscience and the grace of God, did not 
flinch under the dreadful accusations of Lucilia. 
“Woman,” he said calmly, “in the name of our 
Lord Jesus Christ, I forgive you. He knows my 
innocence, and no doubt he will assert it in his 
own good time.” As often happens, the fickle 
crowd now sided with the holy patriarch, and had 
it not been for his generous interference the im- 
prudent and reckless Lucilia would have paid 
with her life for her rash and wicked conduct. 
Her miserable instigators, perceiving that the in- 
nocent victim whom they had resolved to destroy 
was on the point of eluding their toils, now cried 
out : “ What the woman says is true, and we as- 
sert that Bishop Narcissus is certainly guilty of 
the crime laid to his charge. We have visited 
Greece frequently ; this crime is still spoken of 
in Corinth, and we can produce proofs that leave 
no doubt in the matter. He did compass the 
ruin of this unfortunate woman whom you now 
threaten to stone to death. We are prepared to 
prove this on oath.” Seeing the hesitation of 
the crowd, the first of the three men exclaimed : 
“ May I be burned alive if what I say is not 
true.” “ And I,” said the second, “ may I be 
consumed by a slow and painful disease if my 
testimony is false.^’ The third cried : “ May I 
be struck blind for life if I calumniate this old 
man.” 

The irreproachable life and the well-known 


Bishop Narcissus. 


129 


virtues of tlie patriarch would have made it an 
easy task for him to refute the charge and con- 
found his accusers ; but he chose rather to retire 
into that solitude for which he had yearned so 
long. He was but too glad to cast off the burden 
which he had unwillingly assumed ; he departed 
from Palestine, traversed Egypt, and passed into 
Africa,* where he spent some years leading the 
hidden life of a solitary. The fear of recognition 
kept him moving from place to place, until at 
last a command from heaven sent him back to 
Jerusalem and to the government of his see. 

Hor did God fail to vindicate the honor of his 
servant. The hag Lucilia, torn by remorse on 
her death-bed, was forced, as if in spite of her- 
self, to give public testimony to his innocence. 
Tortured with pain, and -writhing in agony, she 
constantly cried : 1 slandered him ! 1 slandered 
him ! The men who swore to the slander were 
visited by the vengeance they invoked. The first 
-was burned to ashes, together with his whole 
family and his house. The second fell a victim 
to a frightful disease which carried him off in 
paroxysms of pain. The third, terrified by the 
fate of his accomplices, and fearing God’s wrath, 
made a public confession of his guilt. Remorse 
and tears brought on blindness. 

This was the saintly and venerable bishop who 

* The term Africa was first/ used by the Romans to desig- 
nate the territory of Carthage after it had become a Roman 
province. It was only long after that it was applied to the 
whole continent. See Schmitz’s “ Manual.”— [Note of Tr.] 


130 


The African Fabiola. 


had just celebrated the sacred mysteries. Pre- 
fatory to the benediction he spoke a few words of 
exhortation, urging the congregation to place 
their trust in God, who is always faithful to his 
people and to his promises, and sends afflictions 
only to render them more perfect. Then the 
Christians dispersed and wended their way back 
to the city in scattered groups. 




CHAPTER VIII. 

THE BLOOD-STAINED VEIL. 

Towards tlie evening of the above-mentioned 
day, in compliance with the request of Bishop 
Optatus, Narcissus related some of the incidents 
of his long exile in that charming simplicity of 
style which made his conversation so wonderfully 
interesting. Quite a number had collected ; there 
were priests from the city, deacons in charge of 
the poor, some of the pious laity, and a few of 
even senatorial rank. There were present, also, 
some widows, venerable for their age, but still 
more so for their virtues. These were dea- 
conesses ; they spent their lives in visiting the 
poor, making garments for them, like Tabitha, 
instructing the catechumens of their own sex for 
baptism, and in preparing the friendless dead for 
burial. In the apostolic ages these devoted 
women were the type, the line, sketch, so to 
speak, of those grand institutions founded at a 
later period by the Church for the relief of every 
form of misery and suffering which the human 
family is heir to. Near the deaconesses sat a 
woman whom physiognomy rather than dress 
131 


132 The African Fabiola. 

proclaimed to be of noble rank ; this was Vivians 
mother, who, since her baptism, spent her whole 
life in prayer and good works. She was accom- 
panied by her usual, nay, inseparable, companion, 
the good and pious Rufina. 

The venerable patriarch had narrated how he 
had fled alone and at night from Jerusalem, dis- 
guised as a peasant, in order to elude the search 
and pursuit of his flock ; how he used to rest dur- 
ing the day near some sheltered spring and pur- 
sued his journey by the light of the stars; his 
food was dates and his drink the waters of the 
way-side rivulet. Trembling lest he should be dis- 
covered and forced to return to his flock, he finally 
reached Egypt, where he hoped to find some 
lonely spot where he might live unknown and 
consecrate his whole time to meditation and 
prayer. 

But even on the banks of the Rile, in the vast 
deserts formerly traversed by the children of 
Israel before their entrance to the promised land, 
in the deepest and darkest caves or tops of the 
loftiest mountains, he sought in vain for a spot 
untrodden by human footsteps. He had resolved 
to penetrate into the trackless deserts of Africa ; 
but sickness and fatigue prevented him. 

“ Sometimes,” he continued, “ I bent my steps 
to the east and sometimes to the west, wander- 
ing aimlessly like Adam’s first-born son after his 
crime. Occasionally Providence conducted me 
to some hospitable roof, where I met with gene- 


The Blood-Stained Veil. 


133 


rosity and kindness. At the sight of my bruised 
and bleeding feet they used to have compassion 
on the poor traveller, and used to press him to re- 
main and rest. The invitation was generally but 
too welcome to be refused. My more usual way, 
however, was, when night came, to cast my staff 
upon the ground and to abandon myself to undis- 
turbed repose. God in his goodness watched 
over his aged servant, and the roaring lions of 
the desert retired to a distance, as if to respect my 
slumbers. 

“ About twelve years ago, being persuaded that 
I had no further duties to perform in this world, 
that those who once knew me thought my bones 
were mouldering in some unknown grave, I re- 
solved to make use of the opportunity given me 
by a merciful Providence. In this way I have 
been able to visit in detail all the churches of Af- 
rica ; I have passed through your city more than 
once, always edified at finding so many evidences 
of ever-increasing numbers and graces. Without 
being recognized I have frequently assisted at 
your assemblies ; with you I have humbly sat at 
our Lord’s table, and my trembling lips have 
drank out of the same cup the adorable Blood of 
Jesus Christ, our common Saviour. 

“ But God has spoken ; my tears and prayers 
were not worthy of obtaining the happiness for 
which I so ardently longed — to die without a 
name in the silence of solitude. ITe wills that I 
return to my people, and wield once more the 


134 


The A frican Fabiola. 


pastoral crook which my hands have forgotten 
how to grasp. His holy will be done ! but before 
I turn my steps to Jerusalem, so long thebeloved 
city of God, I am obliged to execute a commis- 
sion, or rather to convey a sacred trust and de- 
posit, to a noble lady who is a member of the 
Carthagenian Church. Had it rested with my- 
self I should gladly have carried it with me and 
worn it on my heart until my dying day. 

“A short time before the rainy season, and 
only a few months ago, I happened to be in Al- 
exandria. My object was to find, some convenient 
place for retirement and meditation. A severe 
fit of sickness detained me in the city. A chari- 
table widow who lived in the remote suburbs had 
afforded me a shelter and care. Her charity and 
kindness had so won upon me as to induce me to 
make known to her that I was a priest ; but I 
revealed neither my name nor rank in the Church. v 
I had determined to carry both secrets with me to 
the grave. 

“The patriarchal see was then vacant; the 
clergy and people had not been able to meet to 
provide a successor to the late bishop, who before 
his death had not failed to mark the ominous 
sounds of the coming storm upon his church. 
"Woe to the provinces governed by weak or de- 
signing men ! They are incapable of stemming 
the tide of popular fury, while, to retain a title 
that flatters their pride or avarice, they basely 
smother the voice of humanity and conscience. 


The Blood-Stained Veil. 135 

Like Pilate, in order to retain the favor of their 
master, Caesar, they condemn even the innocent 
and spill the blood of the just. 

tc Aquila, the prefect of Alexandria, has no per- 
sonal hatred to the Christians ; he esteems their 
virtues ; he readily bears witness to their patriot- 
ism and obedience to the law, nay, in the begin- 
ning he was openly favorable to them. But the 
moment he found that his conduct was carped at 
and that public opinion censured his tolerance, a 
speedy change was made in his words and actions ; 
the Christians were sought out and cast into pri- 
son ; the priests were horribly mutilated, either 
by having their eyes plucked out, or by having 
their right hands struck off, as if in punishment 
for having celebrated the sacred mysteries. Some 
were tortured until their bones were dislocated, 
others were made lame, and in this crippled con- 
dition were condemned for life to work in mines 
and quarries. Worn out by inhuman treatment, 
by overwork and insufficient food, they died a 
slow and lingering death. 

“ Meantime the people clamored and cried for 
blood, more blood; the governor was constantly 
reminded that at Borne, Bicomedia, and else- 
where the Christians were made to serve for the 
amusement of the public in the amphitheatres, 
and that this was the only way to intimidate and 
arrest the progress of this wicked sect. The timid 
Aquila yielded in this also. 

“How can I describe to you the frightful 


136 The African Fabiola, 

scenes I have so often, alas ! contemplated ? 
Words can give no idea of tlie violence and cru- 
elty employed against our holy martyrs. They 
were held naked and suspended in the air and 
beaten until the bones protruded from the flesh ; 
vinegar and salt were poured into their living 
wounds ; their sides were torn with iron claws 
until they were one mass of ragged and bloody 
flesh, after whicli they were roasted over a slow 
fire. Others were beheaded or cast into the 
sea ; this was the mildest punishment, and was sel- 
dom employed except when the executioners were 
too fatigued and wearied to continue their labors. 

“ Each day brought new Christians to replace 
those who had gloriously consummated their con- 
fession of the faith. No rank, age, or sex was 
spared. Young men and children torn from 
their mothers’ arms were put to the torture, and 
quailed not before the scowls and yells of the mob v 
drunk with fury. After the wheel and the rack 
had done their work, some were tied to two dif- 
ferent trees, bent for the purpose, and thus torn 
limb from limb by the recoil. I have seen old 
men covered with blood and dragged through the 
streets ; the populace pelted them with stones, 
beat them with sticks, and lashed them with 
whips and thongs. Their souls had gone to God’s 
footstool long before the fury of the mob had 
ceased to outrage and mangle the misshapen mass 
of their dead bodies. 

“ Meantime a spectacle no less appalling was 


The Blood-Stained Veil. 


137 


attracting vast crowds to tlie different circuses in 
the city; many generous confessors whose cour- 
age no tortures could overcome had been led 
thither and had been exposed to the fury of wild 
beasts previously goaded to madness by pain and 
hunger. But, O wonderful power of our Lord 
and Saviour! it often happened that, although 
goaded on by red-hot irons, the leopards, lions, 
tigers, and bulls respected the holy martyrs and 
turned all their fury against the executioners. A 
youth, not yet twenty years of age, stood erect in 
the middle of the amphitheatre ; a heavenly joy 
beamed in his countenance as, with arms out- 
stretched in the shape of a cross, he poured forth 
his prayer. Thrice did the tigers and lions rush 
upon him to tear him ; thrice did they stop 
short and crouch at his feet, as if held back by 
some invisible power. A furious bull was set 
upon the youthful athlete, but, having come up 
to him, turned suddenly on the pagans and gored 
many of them. The undaunted hero continued 
to pray as if he neithe/ saw nor heard aught of 
what was taking place around him ; his lips were 
yet moving in prayer when a soldier struck off 
his head with a sword.* 

ce One day there was brought to Aquila’s tri- 
bunal a delicate young woman, who, though clad 
in the humble garb of a slave, appeared never- 
theless to be of noble birth. To the first interro- 

* See “ Acts of the Egyptian Martyrs under the Governor- 
ship of Aquila.” 


188 


The African Fabiola. 


gatories put to her she boldly made answer that 
she was a Christian, and would be happy to die 
for Christ, her Saviour, and her beloved Spouse. 
The word spouse gave occasion to horrid blasphe- 
mies and brutal jests among the crowd ; but 
she, without betraying the slightest fear or con- 
fusion, raised her voice and repeated : ‘ I am a 
Christian, spouse of Christ my God, and I con- 
sider it the greatest happiness to shed my blood 
to the last drop for him.’ 

u The governor spoke to her kindly at first, 
promising if she would renounce the faith to set 
her free and give her in marriage where she 
could enjoy position and wealth. ‘ If you consent 
to sacrifice to the gods,’ he said, ‘ the wealthy mas- 
ter to whom you belong, and who holds the high- 
est rank in the city, is ready and willing to share 
his name and fortune with you.’ . . . f Do not 
lose time, she answered, but attend to what you 
call your duty. I will never have any other God 
nor any other spouse than Christ my Saviour.’ 

“ Furious and beside himself with rage, Aquila 
commanded the executioners to seize the inno- 
cent slave. In spite of her entreaties her veil was 
torn away, and a face full of beauty and maidenly 
confusion was exposed to the astonished gaze of 
the spectators ; the cruel ministers of the governor 
remained as spell-bound with astonishment as if 
they stood in the presence of one of their god- 
desses from Olympus. Seeing this, the courage- 
ous martyr, fearing to lose her crown, cried 


The Blood-Stained Veil. 


139 


aloud : ‘ I despise your false gods and infamous 
goddesses ; I am a Christian and the betrothed 
of Christ. Why do you tarry ? 5 

“ Her words, and especially her lofty bearing 
and tone, irritated the executioners. They 
rushed upon her like wild beasts. » They vied 
with each other in discovering and inflicting new 
methods of torture. Yain efforts! For two 
long hours their rage vented itself upon her. Her 
whole body is one continuous wound, and blood 
flows from every limb ; her beautiful counte- 
nance is bruised and disfigured. The intrepid 
virgin never ceases to praise and bless the Lord. 
‘ Blessed are they ,’ exclaimed she, ‘ who are 
called to the feast of the nuptials of the Lamb ! 
How pleasing and sweet it is to suffer -for the 
beloved One ! Chaste and divine Spouse of my 
soul, who hast signed with thy blood our re- 
demption and our peace, behold the hour in which 
thy betrothed is about to ratify in her blood 
the august alliance to which thou hast vouch- 
safed to invite her.’ 

“At last the governor gave orders to have 
her remanded to prison, in the hope, no doubt, 
that her sufferings would induce her to sacrifice 
to the gods. They knew not the strength that 
God gives to his own ! The generous martyr 
had but one regret, that of seeing the solemn 
hour of her sacrifice delayed, and, after having 
stanched her wounds with her veil, she turned 
her whole attention to prepare herself by prayer 


140 


The African Fabiola. 


for a new confession of the faith. She had not 
long to wait. On the morrow she was again 
presented before the governor and tortured even 
more cruelly than before. As she remained 
steadfast, she was sentenced to be cast naked into 
a cauldron Qf boiling pitch. 

“ Tears filled the eyes of the chaste virgin ; 
her modesty then would be insulted at the very 
instant that she was to go, full of love and glad- 
ness, to be united to her Spouse. I saw her clasp 
her hands and fall on her knees. ‘ Noble Aquila,’ 
she said, ‘ in your mother’s name, in the name of 
your own wife, I conjure you to modify your sen- 
tence. I fear not death ; it is the object of my 
most ardent desires ; I see its approach with trans- 
ports of joy which you cannot understand ; but 
oh ! do not permit this outrage, order rather that I 
be put as I am into the cauldron. You see what 
courage and strength Jesus Christ, my God, gives 
to those who put their hope in him.’ God 
touched Aquila’s heart ; he granted her request, 
and the execution of the sentence was entrusted 
to one of the guards named Basilides. 

u This officer treated her with the most delicate 
consideration and shielded her on the way from 
the insults of the rabble and their obscene and 
blasphemous ribaldry. Moved by this unhoped- 
for humanity, the holy martyr told Basilides to 
be of good cheer, for she would obtain for him 
the grace of conversion. She prayed for some 
time, and then calmly placed herself in the hands 


The Blood-Stained Veil. 


141 


of the guard. They immersed her slowly into the 
seething pitch, and the glorious sacrifice was con- 
summated.* 

“ A few hours before her second appearance at 
the tribunal of the governor, I succeeded in gain- 
ing access to her prison, and she received from 
my hands the adorable Body of Jesus Christ to 
strengthen her for the combat. ‘ Priest of God,’ 
she said to me, 1 1 shall soon leave this world of 
sadness and sorrow. I was not born in poverty 
and slavery, as you may have imagined ; my 
early life was spent in luxury and ease with a 
noble lady, my kinswoman, and a friend, a fond sis- 
ter whose memory brings tears to my eyes even at 
this last moment, when I should think only of God. 
As I was playing one day on the sea-shore I was 
seized by pirates on their way from their hiding- 
places in the mountains, and was carried by them 
to their ship. At their arrival in Alexandria they 
sold me into slavery. God had pity on me ; a 
fellow-slave took me into her confidence and 
made known to me the God of the Christians. I 
received Baptism, and blessed the kind Provi- 
dence that had wrought my salvation by means 
of the misfortune I so bitterly deplored. After 
the lapse of some years I came into possession of 
a new master ; I had grown to womanhood, and 
was considered rather good-looking and hand- 
some. Alas ! these vain gifts were destined to 


* See “Acts of the Martyrdom of St. Potamiena. 1 


142 


The African FaMola. 


cause me many tears. My master conceived a 
passion for me, but I rejected his overtures with 
horror, for I had already promised in my heart to 
have no spouse other than Jesus Christ. I ur- 
gently begged the venerable Bishop of Alexan- 
dria to grant me the dearest wish of my heart ; 
he solemnly consecrated me to the Lord and gave 
me the veil that I wore this day at the governor’s 
tribunal. 

“ ‘ For ten years I have been suffering from the 
constant attacks of the unhappy man whose no- 
tice I had attracted, but God in his infinite 
mercy protected me always, and frequently in a 
miraculous manner. I have faithfully kept the 
promise made to my heavenly Spouse at the altar. 
My master sought to be revenged for my resist- 
ance, to punish me for what he called my pride 
and fanaticism ; he denounced me to the gover- 
nor as a Christian, promising him a large sum of 
money if he could induce me to yield. But God 
was with me ; I have confessed his holy name, I 
have gladly suffered for love of him, and I hope 
shortly to receive from liis hands the crown and 
palm of victory. In this solemn hour pray for 
me, father, that my faith fail not ; whatever be 
the kind of death that awaits me, my eyes will 
seek you out before closing for ever, and do 
you then bless me for the last time and point me 
the way to heaven. 

“ ‘ In this world I have found only perils and 
sorrows, and have nothing to regret. Having 


The Blood-Stained Veil. 


143 


been left an orphan in childhood, my grave, 
wherever it may be dug, will not be watered by 
the tears of a sorrowing family. There is but 
one person who would weep at the news of my 
death — a noble Carthagenian lady, that friend, 
that fond sister of my infant days, the sole witness 
of my abduction by the pirates. Kind and ten- 
der Julia , for that is her name, it seems to me as 
if I still hear her piercing cries and see her faint- 
ing in her nurse’s arms ! Father, pardon these 
memories, which savor perhaps of worldly ties 
and affections ; but I loved her so much, and 
she was so gentle and affectionate to me ! If it 
should ever be in your power, tell her that her 
loved Potamiena died thinking of her, and give 
her this veil, dyed in my blood, with my last re- 
quest that she keep it as the dying pledge of my 
affection. When misfortune parted us she ador- 
ed the false gods of her country; may her virtues 
have obtained for her the grace of knowing the 
true God.’ ” 

The venerable Narcissus here ended his narra- 
tive ; more than once did his trembling voice be- 
tray the deep feelings of his soul, and tears forced 
themselves into his eyes as he repeated the dying 
words of the martyr virgin. Leaning on the arm 
of the pious Puffina, the noble Julia came for- 
ward and knelt to receive the precious keepsake, 
the blood-stained veil of her beloved Potamiena. 
Her tears fell fast and long upon it before she 
placed it in her bosom. She would fain have 


144 


The A frican Fabiola. 


thanked the holy bishop and expressed her grati- 
tude and joy, but her lips moved inarticulately 
and refused to form the words. Meantime, night 
had fallen ; the priests and faithful gave thanks 
to God and separated. Next day the aged pa- 
triarch, staff in hand, was once more on the road 
to Jerusalem, to be received by the people with 
the old cry of welcome : Blessed is he who com - 
eth in the name of the Lord ! 



CHAPTER IX. 


THE MOUNTAIN HEEDSMAN. 

After the interview spoken of in a previous 
chapter between old Jubal, the hired assassin, 
and his haughty master, no time was thrown 
away. Taking advantage of the remaining 
hours of night and stealthily gliding along the 
darkest and most unfrequented streets, the slave 
was a long way from Carthage when the first 
rays of the sun gilded the horizon. 

Being accustomed to scale the steepest moun- 
tains, and being an expert swimmer, he advanced 
rapidly and indulged in the most pleasing dreams. 
It was certain, then, that in a short time he 
would have money enough to enable him to 
spend the rest of his days in ease. He would be 
free again, and would roam through his native 
wilds and woods. Once more would he lead the 
life of his youth, follow the same pastimes and 
expeditions to hunt the lion and the tigej*. At 
these thoughts his heart beat high and gave new 
life and elasticity to his whole frame ; he rather 
ran than walked, and night was far advanced be- 
fore he could bring himself to take a few hour’s 
rest. 


145 


146 The African Fabiola. 

On the second day, however, his face wore an 
anxious look ; he slackened his pace occasion- 
ally or halted altogether, as if to give himself time 
for thought. Sometimes he closed his eyes in 
deep meditation ; a moment after and he would 
arouse himself, and his face would settle into an 
expression of resoluteness and alarm. What 
could be the thoughts that were passing through 
the mind of this man, so long inured to crime. 

Afer had grown callous by dint of assassina- 
tions ; his blow was unaccompanied by remorse, 
the dagger never shook in his grasp. He used to 
cast a calm look on the victim at his feet, but it 
was to make sure that ho had not missed his 
blow ; having satisfied himself on that point, 
he proceeded leisurely to w T ipe the blade of his 
poniard and demand payment for what he termed 
his fidelity. But, villain as he was, he was pru- 
dent and cunning, and certainly not a man to 
commit himself by overhaste or presumption. 
When occasion required he knew how to wait ; 
when the impetuous Jubal would sometimes 
complain of his slowness in avenging him the 
slave would drawl out : “ Master, the time has not 
come yet : you can rely on your faithful ser- 
vant.” . 

When the negro began to reflect he began to 
fear also ; at one time he had almost made up his 
mind to return to Carthage and brave his mas- 
ter’s anger. His was indeed no easy undertak- 
ing ; it was to murder not only a brave soldier 


The Mountain Herdsman . 


147 


in the strength of manhood, but, moreover, the 
leader, the general of an army, constantly sur- 
rounded by faithful guards. How get to him, 
how find access to his tent, and even if he did, 
would he find him alone or asleep ? would it be 
possible to stab Him to the heart ? The slightest 
movement or cry would arouse the guards, and 
then woe to the assassin ! a thousand swords 
would be upon him ! 

For hours did these thoughts fill the bosom 
and conjure the most frightful pictures before 
the mind’s eye of the trembling slave. At one 
time he imagined himself watched, manacled, 
examined, put to the torture, overcome by excess 
of pain ; he seemed to hear the fatal sentence 
pronouncing his doom. At another time he had 
succeeded in gaining the tent of his sleeping vic- 
tim, but, for the first time in his life, his dagger 
had missed the heart; the bungling slave was 
hemmed in by the enraged troops ; he felt on his 
creeping and bloody flesh the cold edge of their 
swords ; an involuntary groan burst from his 
breast, a cold sweat covered his body, and the 
few teeth left him by age chattered with terror. 
The dastardly old villain clung to life more eager- 
ly than the most pampered favorites of fortune. 

Exhausted by this warfare of terror and ima- 
gination, he sat himself down at the foot of a 
date-tree, whose shade protected him from the 
burning rays of a midday sun. “I will go no 
further,” said he to himself. “ What a mad fool I 


148 


The African FaMola. 


was to have allowed myself to be duped by such 
fallacious hopes ! My master has promised to 
give me wealth and liberty ; he is rich, and can 
easily give me gold ; he has plenty of younger 
and stronger slaves than I, and he can well afford 
to give me my freedom. But if I am found out 
will he come and put on my manacles ? Would 
he jeopardize his life for mine? My purse is 
pretty well stocked, the road is open, and my feet 
are still able to put a long distance between Car- 
thage and myself. After all, I have no reason to 
hate Lady Yivia’s husband ; he never injured me ; 
let him live then, and let me live too. Jubal has 
a dagger as well as I ; let him take his own re- 
venge, it is his own business.” After this he 
felt eased, like a man who has cast off a heavy 
load, and quietly stretched himself down to sleep. 

The children of the desert very readily confide 
their soliloquies to the discretion of the sands ; 
because, argue they, if the sands hear, and it has 
never been proved they do, it is very certain, at 
any rate, that they never talk. Hence Afer had 
thought aloud, he was so confident of being quite 
alone. Ho sound had fallen even on his ear, 
which was so quick that it could catch the rust- 
ling of the distant grass waving gently to the 
breeze ; yet no sooner had he closed his eyes as 
he disposed himself to sleep than he sprang up 
like a wounded lion. 

An old man stood before him. His dress told 
his occupation very plainly ; he was one of that 


The Mountain Herdsman . 


149 


class of camel-drivers so numerous in tlie coun- 
tries of Africa, who constantly roam from place 
to place in search of pasture for their cattle. A 
snow-white beard fell on his ample breast ; his 
sharp twinkling eye, riveted in a sidelong glance 
on the slave, seemed to be busied in recalling 
some half-obliterated and distant recollections of 
the past. 

“ Am I mistaken ? ” he cried, after a short 
pause ; “ is not this you, Afer ? ” 

“ Importunate old man,” answered the black 
slave, placing his hand on his dagger, “ what 
business of yours is my name, and by what right 
do you ask it % Begone to your camels on the 
mountain, and do not annoy a tired traveller 
seeking to rest a little on his weary journey.” 

“ Afer, now I know you to a certainty ; I do 
not wish to annoy or bother you as you imagine ; 
I am an old acquaintance whom you seem to have 
forgotten, one of your old companions in misfor- 
tune, but one so changed by grief that it is no 
wonder you cannot recognize me. Do you not 
remember poor Sylvanus, once the slave of the 
noble Hanno, and now the herder of a few lean 
camels V* 

“ Do I remember old Sylvanus ! By the great 
Juno , I do not forget my old friends so soon ; I 
remember full well the merry quips and pleasant 
parties that we so often enjoyed, and whiled away 
the time in while waiting for our gaming and 
carousing masters.” 


150 


The African Fabiola. 


“ Have a care, Afer, liow you recall these old 
memories ; they bring blood from a wound that 
time can never heal. I would just as soon be 
run through the heart with that dagger with 
which your hand toyed just now. For old Syl- 
vanus there are no longer any happy recollec- 
tions, no pleasures in this world unless . . . But 
come to my tent ; I overheard you, you talked 
about Jubal and Vivia’s husband, whom your 
master commissioned you, no doubt, to despatch 
to Pluto. If I can assist you in any way you 
may count on me ; I have no use for gold ; what 
could I do with it? But I want revenge ! ” And 
the old man’s eye lit up with so malignant a 
gleam that it made the black slave tremble. 

A few minutes later they arrived at and seated 
themselves in the camel-herder’s tent. A female 
slave, bent with age, served them with refresh- 
ments and then withdrew to go and milk the 
camels on the hillside. 

“We can now talk at our ease,” said Sylvanus. 
“Fatumawill not return until evening. Hide 
nothing from me, Afer ; you would only lose time 
by trying to deceive me. Hot one word of your 
soliloquy escaped me; my attentive ear drunk them 
all in greedily as they fell from your lips. You 
are on your way to the camp, and you. are going 
thither to avenge some insult offered to your 
master ; do not be afraid that I shall betray your 
secret. I said, and I repeat, that my thirst for 
vengeance allows me no rest day or night. Like 


The Mountain Herdsman. 


151 


yourself, I bear no grudge to Yivia’s husband, 
and lie is said to be a brave soldier, a lenient and 
kind master to his slaves ; but she ! Oh ! if my 
dagger could but pierce her heart Pd die content. 
To stab the man she loves and in whose name she 
glories is to stab her ! That is to taste and enjoy 
the sweetness of revenge 1 My heart swells to 
bursting at the glorious thought. O Afer ! will 
you let me share with you this undertaking ? 
You may rest assured you will never regret it if 
you do.” 

“ Sylvanus, I am at a loss to understand one 
word of what you say. Why, I always thought 
you were so happy that I have often envied you. 
You are free, you breathe at will the wild breeze 
of the mountains, and your camels suffice for all 
your wants.” 

“ Liberty, mountain air, and a few camels were 
once my dream of perfect happiness ; but these 
have now lost all their value for me. At night, 
in my tent, and during the day in the shade of 
the palms, I can only sigh and weep. O Yi- 
via, Yivia ! shall I ever enjoy the sight of your 
heart’s blood and hear the death-rattle of your 
agony ? ” 

“ Every one is loud in her praises, what can 
she have done to you ? Perhaps she took the 
whim of amusing herself by having you whipped 
long ago ? Or did she suspect you of some ima- 
ginary crime and have you put into the stocks or 
prison ? Why do you hate her ? Nay, if my 


152 


The African Fabiola . 


memory does not fail me, I remember that it was 
her mother that obtained you your freedom, gave 
you money to buy your camels, so that you might 
support yourself and old Fatuma, whom she con- 
fided to your care. ” 

“ That is all well enough ; I got liberty and a 
handful of gold, but I got not the dearest, the 
only object of my affections. And it was Yivia, 
the wicked Yivia, that robbed me of my jewel, 
my treasure, and ever since I have been the most 
unhappy of men ! ” 

u What do you mean, Sylvanus? of what 
treasure did Yivia rob you ? Ye gods ! perhaps 
he is doating.” 

“ Have you forgotten that I was once a fa- 
ther ? The mate who had united her sad lot to 
mine died young and left me an infant daughter, 
sole pledge of our mutual affection. Fatima — 
for so we called her — was not destined to know 
her mother ; I alone watched over her solitary 
cradle. To return to it more quickly, I worked 
hard to finish my daily task ; gray dawn found 
me always at my toil ; the thought of my child 
redoubled my strength and made me forget fa- 
tigue. 

u How happy it made me feel when I re- 
turned to see her smile and stretch out her little 
arms to me ! How I used to embrace and kiss 
and weep over her ! Then my tears were sweet 
and soothing ; since they have turned to the 
bitterness of gall. 


The Mountain Herdsman. 153 

“If Fatima fell sick I used to sit all night by 
her cradle watching, administering to her wants, 
and soothing her pains. I used to warm her lit- 
tle hands and feet with my hands and breath, 
and when daylight called me to my task I used 
to tremble with anxiety as I confided her to the 
care of old Fatuma. My good mistress frequent- 
ly permitted me to remain all day with my child. 
It would be very ungrateful to forget that even 
the kind lady herself often spent whole hours by 
the sick-bed and nursed my darling like a mo- 
ther. 

“ Why did she not die then ? Why did she 
not go to her mother in the grave ? Fool that I 
was! I implored the immortal gods to spare me 
my child. Alas ! the future was veiled from my 
eyes ; I was then very far from imagining that I 
should one day accuse them of cruelty for hav- 
ing heard my prayers ! Afer, forgive a father’s 
grief! As for you, unless you have changed 
since I knew you, you no more care for our great 
Jupiter than for the Crucified, whom the godless 
sect of the Christians adore. 

“ Fatima thrived and grew; she was the 
image of her mother, the same mild and winning 
ways; by dint of caresses and affection she 
seemed to strive to take her mother’s place in 
my heart. On my return from the fields she al- 
ways ran to meet me, to wipe my sweat-covered 
face, and her caresses were always accompanied 
by words that were music to iny ear and joy to 


154 


The African Fdbiola. 


my heart. She had water ready for my feet 
and food for my mouth ; her hands had spread 
my couch to make easy my slumbers, and in the 
morning I was sure to be gladdened by her pre- 
sence before returning to my daily toil. 

“ A slave’s lot is a hard one, Afer, as you well 
know ; the bread he eats is often steeped in his 
tears, as well as bought at the price of his sweat. 
After having toiled all day under a burning sun, 
in the cold and rain, to till the field of another, 
he must often labor also to please and amuse his 
master ; his heart has seldom the consolation of 
hearing even a kind word ; he must bend in 
silence to the supercilious caprices and tyrannical 
exactions of those who paid for him in the same 
way as they do for their horses. But the tender 
affection of my Fatima gave me courage to bear 
patiently my unhappy lot. When I sat near her 
I forgot all my sufferings ; a smile or a word 
from my darling child made me the happiest of 
fathers. 

“ Laws are cruel ; the pride and avarice of men 
have made them so. Being the daughter of a 
poor slave, Fatima belonged not to her father, 
but to her father’s master. He had the right to 
tear her from my arms, in spite of my prayers 
and tears, to sell her to a stranger to be taken 
whithersoever he might please. Hanno did not 
do this, and I thanked him on my knees. At 
any rate, my darling would not be taken from 
me ! I could see and embrace her every day of 


The Mountain Herdsman . 


155 


my life, and, when the time would come, I could 
choose for her a husband that would be worthy 
of her. Sweet hopes, whither are ye fled ? It 
was now, Afer, that the real misfortunes of your 
old friend began. 

“ Years had developed Fatima’s limbs, and had 
brought into relief all her sterling qualities ; she 
was fifteen years of age. She was praised for 
her beauty and admired for her modesty and 
gentleness. People never grew tired of praising 
her and her wonderful affection for her father. 
She was the only person who seemed not to know 
and esteem and appreciate all her good qualities. 
She could not understand why people praised her 
so much. ‘ Was not virtue a duty ? To love 
one’s father, to be devoted to him, was not that 
a natural impulse to be found in every child’s 
heart ? ’ 

“The noble Hanno’s wife had been always 
very kind to her ; she proposed to attach her to 
the immediate service of her daughter, and no 
obstacle was found in the way. In waiting on 
her young mistress, Fatima was not obliged to 
make any change in the customary routine of her 
past life. So I continued to enjoy her presence 
every day, and her company during the long 
hours of the evening. This was so pleasant to 
both that we often forgot the hour for repose, we 
were so happy in being together. Two years 
glided away in this manner. 

“ I noticed, however, that Fatima began to lose 


156 


The African Fabiola. 


some of lier natural spriglitliness ; she became 
graver and more serious, and her conversation 
was no longer as gay as it used to be. Still she 
was as good, as affectionate, and as officious to- 
wards me as ever. There was so much sweet- 
ness in her smile and affection in her manner, 
that I always recognized the heart of my own 
darling child, and hence I was afraid to question 
her. 

“ Was Fatima concealing something from me ? 
Could she, who was invariably so frank with me, 
have some secret that she dared not reveal to her 
father ? What extraordinary change was coming 
over her ? Did she begin to feel the misfortunes 
of her condition ? Was she worried by the petu- 
lance or pride of her young mistress? Was her 
honor or virtue threatened ? Could her young 
and innocent soul have been unwarily ensnared 
by some tender affection or attachment ? Did 
she think it was time to lay aside the garb of 
maidenhood to assume that of wedlock ? I de- 
termined to put an end to my anxiety and dis- 
tress by sounding her cautiously. She spared me 
the trouble herself. 

“ One day 1 returned from the field at the usual 
hour. My eyes looked for Fatima in vain ; she 
came not to meet me. Alarmed and trembling 
with fear, I asked myself what could be the 
cause of her absence. The twinkling stars came 
out one by one until they filled the heavens, and 
still no footsteps of my child fell on my listening 


The Mountain Herdsman. 


157 


ear. At last I heard a slight rustle. Here she 
was ! I ran to clasp her in my arms. I stood as 
if smitten by a bolt from heaven. 

u Fatima wore no longer the mean and dark- 
hued garment of a slave. A snow-white robe 
.enveloped her whole person, a veil of the same 
color floated round her head and half concealed 
her beautiful tresses, while a golden cross sparkled 
on her bosom. There remained, then, no room 
for further doubt. She had been deceived, ca- 
joled, entrapped ; they had taken advantage of 
her youth, of her confiding innocence — she had 
been made a Christian ! This, then, was the 
secret she had held locked up in her heart, and, 

0 dotard that I was ! 1 never even as much as 
thought of such a horror. 

“ I was struck motionless and dumb. She ap- 
proached me trembling and with downcast eyes 
to embrace me. Her lips slightly touched my 
forehead ; I heard her whisper the name of fa- 
ther. I returned to consciousness and spurned 
her from me with the wildest vituperation and 
rage. I saw her fall at my feet. She begged me 
with prayers and tears not to withdraw from her 
my love and affection. They were unavailing. 

1 called down the most awful imprecations on her 
head ; I cursed her, I raved like a madman, and 
left her with a solemn injunction never more to 
come into my sight. Mark me well, Afer, I did 
this because I had sworn such a hatred to the 
Christian religion that, had I a dagger at that 


158 


The African Fabiola. 


moment, I would have plunged it remorselessly 
in my own child’s heart ! 

“ But it is time for you to retire to rest ; the 
shades of night have fallen upon the hills, and 
my heart is so torn with harrowing emotions that 
I cannot continue for the present. I will do so 
to-morrow, and you shall hear my plans fpr the 
future. That the immortal gods have inspired 
me this time I am fully persuaded. Only rely on 
me and the success of your enterprise is certain, 
and I shall be permitted to gloat over my first 
instalment of sweet revenge.” 

Thereupon the two friends separated for the 
night. 




CHAPTER X. 

PAGAN FANATICISM. 

Scarcely had the first streaks of dawn ap- 
peared when Sylvanus and Afer were already 
astir 

“ Fatima,” said the freedman, taking up the 
thread of his last night’s narrative, “ Fatima was 
my whole happiness and pride. I lived but for 
her ; her future preoccupied all my attention and 
care. The hardest toil, poverty, the darkness 
.and the chains of a dungeon would have been as 
nothing had I my child by my side ; without her, 
wealth, possessions, happiness, and ease had no 
charms for me, and she had now put an impassa- 
ble gulf betwixt us. I had cursed her and had 
flung her from me without mercy ! I had sworn 
never to see her more ! 

“ Instead of appeasing, time only whetted my 
resentment. Whenever I espied her on her way 
to visit me, as she always hitherto had been accus- 
tomed to do, I invariably avoided and eluded her 
by taking some circuitous path. If she came upon 
me unawares, I turned away my eyes and hastened 
169 


160 


The African Fabiola. 


to hide myself in my cabin. In vain did she fol- 
low me ; she used to remain for hours kneeling 
and sobbing at the door, imploring me to remove 
from her heart the heavy weight of my maledic- 
tion and resentment ; I let her weep and pray 
on without pity or compassion. I felt a strange 
satisfaction in torturing her in this manner; a 
sort of savage delight filled my soul when 1 re- 
flected on the tortures she had to undergo on ac- 
count of my sternness and obstinacy. 

“ Julia, the noble wife of Hanno, came to me 
repeatedly and gently upbraided me for my re- 
lentlessness : 4 Your daughter,’ she used to say, 
4 is inconsolable ; her grief would move the heart 
of a savage ; she had no thought of displeasing 
you when she became a. Christian ; since then she 
has only grown better, milder, more modest, and 
obedient, so that she has become a model for her 
young companions.’ I listened because I had no 
alternative, I never uttered a word, but always 
departed with a new instalment of hate in my 
heart. 

44 1 had been informed by an old slave em- 
ployed about the house that Fatima had been 
taken into tlie friendship as well as into the ser- 
vice of her mistress at orle and the same time ; 
that she often kept her by her under pretext of 
wanting company or assistance, but in reality 
only to have an opportunity of vaunting the 
merits of the new religion ; she urged her to em- 
brace it, promising her her friendship as a re- 


Pagan Fanaticism. 


161 


ward, and by saying that after they would be 
united in one faith and worship they would live 
together like two sisters. She was a good judge 
of a heart so tender and loving as Fatima’s ; her 
persistent solicitations and wheedling ways were 
sure, in the end, to overcome the feeble resist- 
ance of her slave. A fiery, fanatical priest, well 
known to all Carthage, Tertullian, the oracle of 
the modern atheists, gave the finishing stroke to 
the work of my child’s cajolement. 

iC Afer, no words could make you understand 
my rage and hatred to Yivia ; compelled as I 
was to suppress and hide the passions raging in 
my breast, I fell into rayless despair. My nights 
knew no sleep, but as often as I became uncon- 
scious by dint of fatigue and grief Fatima seem- 
ed to stand before me. I imagined her- always 
shrouded in white, wearing that cross, the sym- 
bol of her base apostasy ; at the sight I used to 
spring from my pallet like a tiger wounded in 
his sleep. My lips frothed maledictions upon 
her and the hated patrician who had duped her 
innocence and unsuspecting youth. 

“ When the hour for toil called me to work, I 
doggedly plodded to the place assigned me. I 
held aloof from my fellow slaves as much as pos- 
sible ; little by little they became accustomed to 
my gloomy sullenness. Indifferent to every- 
thing, always absorbed in my own sad thoughts, 
I took no note of the flight of time. I felt 
neither the sweltering sun that bathed me in per- 


162 The African Fabiola. 

spi ration, nor the refreshing shower, that is as 
welcome to the slave toiling in the field as it is 
to the drooping bird and flower. In the evening 
I slunk back in silence to the city, and while 
everything in my master’s mansion resounded 
with music, feasting, and song, I sat solitary and 
alone nursing my grief. If sorrow made me 
weep, hate soon came to dry my tears. There 
are strange mysteries in the heart of a father, 
especially when all his affections are centred in 
an only child. Afer, you cannot understand 
what he suffers when the ties that bind him to 
that child are violently snapped asunder, when the 
long hopes that lured him on and the dreams 
that fed his imagination vanish for ever. The 
gods sometimes send golden dreams to the pil- 
low of the sick and the miserable, but with con- 
sciousness intensified suffering returns. Nor do 
you understand what it is to have deep hate 
gnawing the heart day and night, to feel the 
thirst of revenge burning and eating it away 
without a moment’s respite. Frightful torture, 
than which black Tartarus itself has nothing 
more terrible ! For five long years this has been 
burning up the blood in my veins and consuming 
my very vitals ! 

“ When I cursed Fatima, as I told you already, 
I swore never to see her. She was no longer my 
child, from the moment she joined that accursed 
sect, which is allowed to go on growing and 
spreading when it ought to be smothered in the 


Pagan Fanaticism. 


163 


blood of the last of its adepts. I am thankful to 
the gods for having given me courage and 
strength. I have been faithful to my oath, and 
when it pleased Han no to set me free, to rid him- 
self, no doubt, of a bore, I coldly turned my 
back on the roof that had sheltered my youth, 
that had witnessed my joys and happiness as a 
husband and a father, and subsequently my grief 
and despair. I repaired with old Fatuma to this 
lonely desert, whither the noise of the world 
never comes. With me I brought the arrow still 
rankling in the wound. I never cease to feel its 
stinging barb. Afer, I shall die if I have not re- 
venge. 

“I have not revisited Carthage, that city of 
sorrowful memories, since I was set free. I 
knew not what had become of Fatima, not even 
if she were still alive. Only a few days ago, 
however, a young soldier returning from the. 
army passed through our mountains and rested a 
night in my tent. He thought to interest me 
with camp news, but soon perceiving that I paid 
but little attention, he shifted the subject of con- 
versation and spoke of city matters and of per- 
sons of note with whom he was acquainted. I 
knew not why, but I had the curiosity to ask him 
if Yivia still lived in Carthage, and what had be- 
come of one of her slaves called Fatima. ‘ Yivia,’ 
said he, ‘ never left the city, and still lives in the 
same old mansion. Ho doubt she has become a 
mother ere this. Like her mother, she too is a 


164 


The African Fabiola. 


Christian, as all the city knows. She even hopes 
that Jarbas, her husband, will speedily follow her 
example, thanks to the influence of one Tertul- 
lian, with whom he held sundry conferences pre- 
vious to his departure for the army. lie makes 
no secret of his sympathy for the new sect. In 
the camp his bodyguard is composed exclusively 
of Christian soldiers. Many are loud in their dis- 
satisfaction, and the discontent is becoming more 
serious and threatening every day. As for the 
young slave whom you call Fatima, she became a 
Christian, like her mistress, a long time ago, and 
is a great favorite of hers. She picked her out a 
husband from the same sect ; and, as if some- 
thing unpleasant or ominous attached to the 
name of her childhood, she dropped it for that of 
Felicitas. This is the name she goes by at pre- 
sent.’ 

“ So, Afer, after having renounced the ancient 
and venerable religion of her fathers, she wished 
to forget even the name that her mother and I 
gave her, and it was that detested woman, the 
woman to whom I owe all my woes, that selected 
and gave her a husband ; and the man of her 
choice, the man to whom she made over mv 
daughter, he, too, is a base deserter from the sa- 
cred cause of our gods. O revenge, revenge ! 
Even if she whom I loved but too well were to 
perish, Yivia must die. Let her not reckon on 
the influence and protection of her husband, for 
before many days she shall weep in widow’s 


Pagan Fanaticism. 


165 


weeds ; and then shall come the day when my 
eyes shall feast on the spectacle of her dying 
agony and blood. After that I shall return to 
these hills to die happy.” 

The old freedman ceased. He was frightful 
to behold. His lips continued to quiver and 
move spasmodically, so that he looked as if he 
were still speaking. He had risen and had 
drawn himself up to his full height by a jerking 
movement like that of a mechanical automaton* 
His hand clutched a naked poniard, and seemed 
only to be waiting for the order to strike. His 
staring eyeballs shot fire, and revealed the fury 
of the tempest raging in his soul. The black 
slave, in his terror, did not dare to speak to or 
even to look at him. He trembled as if he stood 
in the presence of one of those imaginary giants 
that used to terrify him in infancy, and who was 
represented as being able to uproot a mountain 
or hurl a man as a shepherd would a stone from 
his hand. 

“Afer,” continued Sylvan us after a short 
pause, “ listen to the plan that I have been medi- 
tating on since yesterday, and thinking about all 
night : Yivia’s husband is every day losing more 
and more the confidence of his troops ; the enthu- 
siasm produced by his first victories over the 
fierce Numidians has given place to dissatisfac- 
tion, as I have been told by outsiders, because he 
does not follow them into their own fastnesses. 
They call his prudence cowardice, and the sus- 


166 


The African Fabiola. 


picion of treason even lias been wliispered 
about. It is rumored that he has come to a 
secret understanding with the enemy, that the 
outposts around the camp are neglected, and that, 
while our brave legions are kept in disgraceful in- 
activity in their miserable intrenchments, the 
wily barbarians are making ready to fall, one of 
these days, on Carthage, to take it by surprise, 
to burn her harbor and shipping, and to possess 
themselves of her spoils and wealth. 

“ Time is precious, Afer ; let us not throw it 
away in useless talk ; let us set out for the camp, 
we can reach it before night by using our own 
diligence and the fleetness of our camels. I will 
pass myself for a man inspired by the gods, an 
interpreter of their supreme will. I will excite 
our soldiers, I will rouse them into revolt in the 
name of our outraged gods, in the name of the 
immortal Juno, the guardian of proud Carthage. 
I will march at their head to Jarbas, and will de- 
mand that, as general of the army, he personally 
offer sacrifice to Mars, the god of war. I will 
tell him that ‘ this terrible god appeared to me 
in sleep ; he commanded me to seek you ; his 
altar must run red with the blood of your oxen ; 
on this condition only can you accomplish the 
overthrow of the indomitable Numidians and re- 
turn in triumph to the walls of Carthage.’ 

“The altar, the victims, the sacrificator will be 
ready. Jarbas will refuse, if it be true that he is a 
Christian ; he is not the man to dissemble through 


Pagan Fanaticism. 


167 


fear or to hide behind a cowardly falsehood. 
His refusal will be the signal for a revolt ; the 
gods and our daggers will do the rest. Mine, 
for one, will not certainly fail ; I want to send 
it all bloody to the wicked Yivia. My name is 
engraven on the blade, and she shall know that 
Fatima’s father has begun the work of ven- 
geance ! 

“I desire the glory and the honor of perfect- 
ing that work of vengeance. With you, Afer, I 
shall return to Carthage ; I want to be the first 
to bear the news of Jarbas’s death. In the com- 
motion which it will produce, it will be easy to 
hound the mob on the Christians ; the ears of 
the Senate will ring with that shout inspired by 
the gods : The Christians to the lions ! At the 
tliunder-tones of frenzied populace our magis- 
trates will arouse themselves, perforce, from their 
criminal apathy. Then, at last, will these 
atheists be sought out and punished. Yivia, 
the wicked Yivia, shall not be able to escape 
the fate she so richly deserves ; she shall die and 
I will see her! She shall die crushed by the 
fangs of wild beasts. Perhaps Fatima’s blood 
would flow and mingle with that of her mistress ! 
Well, let her, too, die ! I was once her father, 
but I am her father no longer ! ” 

As it may be easily imagined, Afer could not 
but approve of the revengeful designs of his old 
friend as well as of the plan proposed by him. The 
carrying out of Jubal’s scheme had lost the ter- 


168 


The A frican jdabiola. 


rible difficulties and dangers of the evening be- 
fore. Provided he could saj at his return : Mas- 
ter , you have been avenged ; Vivians husband is 
dead , the rest did not much signify to Afer. He 
had neither love nor hatred for the Christians ; 
all he wanted was gold and freedom. If he were 
once rich and free, he would let Sylvanus rage as 
much as he pleased against those whom he called 
infidels' and atheists. He took good care, how- 
ever, not to let his accomplice see this ; he was 
too cunning to betray himself and his thoughts, 
so he simply signified his assent by shaking hands 
with Sylvanus ; then they both left the tent. 

Let us turn from them as they hasten on their 
camels towards the camp, in order to regale our 
eyes on a smiling, pleasant scene such as Christ’s 
religion alone can present — let us back to the 
great city. The saintly Bishop of Carthage stands 
clad in the insignia of his high office and dignity, 
and is surrounded by his clergy and flock. A mai- 
den robed in white is at his feet ; her brow wears 
the purity of the angels whose name she bears, 
while her looks, beaming with heavenly joy, 
seem riveted on a flowing veil and a crown of 
flowers lying on the altar. 


CHAPTER XI. 


THE CHRISTIAN VIRGIN. 

Before Clirist, born of a Yirgin, had pro- 
nounced the words, Blessed are the ])ure and 
clean of heart , continency in its highest, most 
superhuman and angelical perfection was. a vir- 
tue unknown in the world. One woman alone, 
she who had been chosen and fitted to bear in her 
womb the Word made flesh, had understood and 
practised it. Her soul, enlightened from on high, 
had fathomed its excellence; her immaculate 
heart felt all its heavenly and peerless value. 
Idolatry, born of united pride and voluptuous- 
ness, and destined unavoidably to result in the 
worship of the flesh and the deification of the 
passions, could not soar to the height of a virtue 
that does violence to and sacrifices the heart it- 
self in its dearest attachments in order to make it 
worthy of God, the equal and the brother of 
the angels. The vestals of paganism, the priest- 
esses of Gaul and the North, though they did not 
wed, still they never dreamt of the cheerful and 
voluntary immolation and unsullied purity of 
heart required in a virgin . Their faithlessness 
169 


170 


The African Fabiola. 


and frailties were not unfrequently seen of men 
and the law had penalties wherewith to punish 
them. God’s eye alone could scan, the heart and 
detect the secrets of the soul, and where these 
were evil legal continency was valueless. 

Even among God’s own people virginity was 
not honored, and barrenness was a disgrace. 
Having been vowed to the Lord by a rash father, 
Jephte’s daughter has but one regret: the pro- 
mise being sacred and inviolable, and being a 
virgin, she is doomed to live and die in that state ; 
she requests, therefore, of her father that she may 
be permitted to retire to the mountains for two 
months to bewail her virginity with her young 
companions. U nlike the daughters of her nation , 
she can never enjoy the happiness of loving and 
being loved by a spouse and prattling children. 
Hence her grief and tears; hence, too, all the 
merit of her gentle obedience and generous sacri- 
fice. 

The Gospel having been rejected by the house 
of Juda and Israel, is announced to the nations. 
A new, a heaven-born, spirit permeates and leav- 
ens the whole mass. Faith renews the face of the 
earth and achieves wonders, charity recognizes 
no longer any limits to its benevolent efforts, po- 
verty lias its enthusiastic admirers, humility seeks 
and courts abjection and contempt, suffering and 
death are courted and welcomed with smiles, a 
new army of soldiers and heroes boldly enters, 
and triumphs in the lists where the old pagan 


The Christian Virgin , 171 

world had sworn to conquer with lire and sword 
the new world, her rival, that confidently de- 
mands her place in the face of heaven, and aspires 
to nothing less than the inheritances of the ages. 
In this movement of transformation, chastity had 
also its appointed place. Though steeped in no 
blood, its palms will be not less glorious, its com- 
bats and triumphs, unseen by human eyes, shall 
only be the more brilliant in those of God. It, 
too, must have its heroes. Grasping the lily, 
symbol of soul purity, in order to make surer the 
road to heaven, they follow the way trod by the 
Queen of Virgins and the beloved disciple whose 
purity won for him the predilection of his Mas- 
ter. 

Even as early as the time that St. Paul wrote 
his epistles to the Corinthians many Christians 
in every rank and station of life had made so- 
lemn vows to live in the state of virginity. These 
the apostle called the betrothed of the Divine 
Spouse ; he applauded their choice ; their hearts, 
he said, would not be divided in their affections; 
wholly occupied in pleasing God, they would es- 
cape the harassing cares and tribulations insepa- 
rable to married life. St. John, in his ecstatic 
visions, saw them in heaven following in the im- 
mediate train- of the Spotless Lamb and heard 
them singing around the throne canticles of love 
unutterable to other lips. 

At the date of our narrative the Church of 
Carthage was in a most flourishing condition, 


172 


The African Fabiola. 


and had long since blossomed and produced its 
crown of liolj virgins. Their modesty contrasted 
singularly with the corruption introduced by pa- 
ganism in that torrid climate, where bosoms are 
as fervid as the air they breathe. As if to expiate 
the abominations of the city, a number of young 
maidens, bred under the refreshing shadow of the 
cross, had embraced a life of perpetual chastity. 
The bishop had solemnly consecrated them to 
God. The gentle and pious Ruiina, the orphan 
from Gaul, was distinguished among them by 
reason of her remarkable perfection and retire- 
ment of life. Another companion, a new sister, 
was now about to join this choir of Christ’s holy 
spouses. 

Her name was Angela; she belonged to a 
wealthy family that had emigrated from Homo 
and settled in Cartilage for the better prosecution 
of their commercial interests. Her parents were 
Christians, and, being advanced in years, they 
had retired from business some years previously, 
in order to devote their whole lives to prayer and 
good works. They gave freely in charity, bat 
they took especial care of the poor old people 
whom the pagans remorselessly left to languish 
in misery and neglect. Touched by such charity, 
many of these unfortunates became Christians. 

At an early age Angela gave evidence of a 
natural tendency for piety and devotion. At the 
time that ordinary children think only of play, 
her greatest delight was to pray. During the 


The Christian Virgin . 173 

day she frequently retired to her room to kneel 
before the crucifix or a picture of Mary. With 
her little hands joined together or clasped on her 
breast, she used to pour out her soul before 
God. She was scarcely twelve years of age 
when her parents thus found her one day rapt 
in ecstasy. Her whole person shone dazzlingly 
bright, her countenance was aglow, and words 
of burning love fell from her lips. She seemed 
to be listening to and taking part in some mys- 
terious conversation, to be gazing on her Beloved 
speaking to her. She pressed her hands on her 
heart as if to stay its flutterings, and to lose no 
word of what was being said to her. 

There never was, perhaps, a more even or a 
milder temper than hers. On beholding her one 
felt irresistibly attracted to her. When in the 
company of her young companions she interested 
and held them captivated by the recital of some 
narrative borrowed from pious books or the 
Scriptures. In her company they forgot the 
amusements which they everywhere else sought 
with eagerness ; the giddiness and petulancy so 
natural to their age gave way, for a time at least, 
to seriousness and attention. If asked the reason, 
they simply asked : “ How could we help being 
good children with one who is goodness itself, 
and who has always so many interesting things to 
tell us ? ” 

Angela had ever a horror for falsehood, and a 
lie never * polluted her lips ; when she was 


174 


The African Fabiola. 


only a child she used to make a candid avowal of 
whatever she thought was a fault. She gave 
ready and cheerful obedience not only to her pa- 
rents but also to her teachers and governesses. 
Later on in life she was heard to say that the first 
time she read in the Gospel what was written of 
the child Jesus, he was subject to them , the words 
made such a deep impression on her that she had 
resolved always to do the same, through love of 
him, and so faithful was she to her promise that 
one would have thought ever after that she had 
no will of her own. 

But what she was most remarkable for was her 
extraordinary modesty and deep love of purity. 
Even before she could have had any knowledge 
of the nature of sin, she showed a wonderful de- 
licacy on this subject, and must have been actu- 
ated by special and supernatural guidance. When 
only five years of age she refused the assistance 
of her maids and even of her mother when she 
retired for the night or prepared to present her- 
self in the morning. She used the bath only 
when it was necessary or ordered by her parents, 
and so sensitive was her modesty that she could 
not brook the presence of even her own nurse. 

At twelve she expressed her desire of consecrat- 
ing her virginity to God. She spoke to the bi- 
shop and her parents with so much unction and 
wisdom regarding her intention and the happi- 
ness of becoming a spouse of Christ, that they 
melted into tears, for they felt that God spoke by 


The Christian Virgin. 


175 


her lips and had visibly marked and singled her 
out fur that exalted honor. As a consequence, 
the venerable pontiff had received her first vows 
and had admitted her into the class of postulants , 
according to the formulary then observed. Hence- 
forth Angela lived in the most profound retire- 
ment, seldom appearing abroad except at the 
celebration of the sacred mysteries. She spent 
the greater part of the day in prayer, communing 
with our Lord and seeming to see and hear him, 
like the holy contemplative of Bethania. At 
night she frequently arose to pray ; often did 
the light of day find her kneeling, her hands 
raised towards the crucifix, her parted lips 
wreathed into smiles through the happiness of 
soul and the ecstatie raptures of her heart. 

The days of her probation were past ; Christ’s 
youthful spouse was now in her t wen ty-second 
year ; the dearest wishes of her heart were about 
to be satisfied — she was called to consecrate and 
give herself for ever to her Beloved. She was 
standing in the presence of the bishop, surround- 
ed by the virgin choir of Carthage, with the 
saintly Rufina and a patrician lady named Mar- 
cella by her side. These stood nigher than the 
rest, because they had been chosen to be her wit- 
nesses. Although it was only just day, there 
was quite a large gathering ; every Christian 
household in the city wished to do public honor 
to the virtues and worth of the shrinking Ange- 
la. Hanno’s noble lady and her daughter were 


176 The African Fabiola. 

among the first to arrive ; in her quality of cate- 
chumen, Yivia had the right of remaining with 
the congregation of the faithful up to the time 
of the commencement of the oblation of the sa- 
cred mysteries. 

The altar was arrayed in grand style as on the 
highest festivals. It was covered with a snow- 
white cloth elaborately embroidered and fringed 
with gold. The most beautiful flowers of the 
season were tastefully arranged in alabaster 
vases and draped baskets, and filled the whole 
edifice with fragrance and perfume. Gold and 
silver lamps, the gifts of wealthy Carthaginian 
Christians, hung at intervals and diffused a soft 
and mellow light throughout the place. Hot a 
sound was to be heard ; the people held their 
very breath, as if it were the dread moment 
when, at the voice of the priest, God descends 
among his children. Optatus had arisen with 
the pastoral staff in his hand and the mitre on 
his head. 

In a few sentences he recapitulated all the 
mysterious sublimity of virginity, which, “in a 
body mortal and subjected to the humiliating law 
of sin. raises man to the purity of the angel. 
How beautiful and precious to the eyes of God is 
that virtue which the immaculate Mary es- 
teemed more than all the prerogatives of the di- 
vine maternity, which Christ glorified in his in- 
carnation by suspending all the laws of nature 
to be born of a virgin, and which he honored in 


The Christian Virgin. 177 

his beloved disciple — that virtue which gives 
even to the peasant’s daughter the immortal king 
of Glory to be her Bridegroom and her Spouse ! 
Henceforth she shall call him her Beloved , her 
Only Love. In return she shall be called by the 
sweet name of sister , dove, and spouse , holy and 
pleasing titles that will make her heart thrill 
with joy for all eternity, for then love will unite 
her more closely to her Beloved and she shall fol- 
low him inseparably and for ever in the train of 
her spotless companions in heaven. 

“ Such a vocation comes wholly from God’s 
goodness, for he chooses whom he willeth ; the 
creature has no right or title to selection. This is 
the highest vocation possible for woman, and 
hence it entails on her the gravest duties and 
the most exalted virtues. The Christian virgin 
must live by prayer, she must love retirement, 
she must fly from the world and its tumults, she 
must ever meditate on the law of God, watch 
over and guard her innocence, in order to keep 
herself holy in mind and body , and she must 
consecrate to Jesus Christ all the affections of 
her heart, because he is a jealous Spouse and will 
have no rival.” 

When the bishop had concluded his remarks, 
voices, melodious and sweet as those before 
God’s throne in heaven, en toned a sacred 
hymn. “How beautiful and heavenly fair,” 
sang they, “is the chaste Spouse of the virgin ! 
How sweet is his countenance, how pleasing his 


178 


TJie African Fabiola . 


voice ! The heart throbs and beats for joy when 
it hears him say : Arise , hasten , my love , my 
<%>m£ from Libanus , and I will encircle 
thy brow with a precious crown, the symbol and 
pledge of our union. O Beloved! behold thy 
sister , thy spouse. She is like the flower refreshed 
by the dews of morning and tinted with the sun’s 
rays, like the spotless lily growing in the silence 
and solitude of the hidden dell. Behold her who 
has sighed so long under the shadow of him 
whom she desires , seeking him so anxiously be- 
cause she languishes with love for him. O 
Jesus, divine Son of Mary ! O heavenly S.pouse 
of virgins, to thee alone be honor, glory, and love 
for ever and ever ! ” 

The choir of virgins ceased ; Angela knelt be- 
fore the altar ; the bishop sat upon his throne. 

“ What do you ask, my child ? ” he said. 

With downcast eyes and clasped hands she 
answered : “ Father, if I be not too unworthy, 
I ask to receive the veil of consecration to Jesus 
Christ, the only object of my love in this world, 
and to be enrolled, to-day and for ever, among 
his holy spouses.” 

“Your piety is known to me, youf virtues 
gladden the hearts of your parents, edify the 
Church of Carthage, and console its suffering and 
aged pastor ; but, my child, the favor that you 
seek is very great, and, as I have said, the duties 
of a virgin are onerous. Have you seriously 
meditated on this before God ? ” 


The Christian Virgin. 


179 


“ Of what avail would be my thoughts, who 
am but a lowly maiden and the last of God’s 
servants, did he not give light? Since I was 
twelve years old I have always sighed for the 
grace which I now implore from your considera- 
tion and kindness. I will never have any spouse 
other than my beloved Lord. He has wounded 
my heart with the darts of his sweet and chaste 
love.” 

“My child, the world presents only dangers 
and temptations. The spirit is prompt hut the 
flesh is weak , are the words of Him to whom you 
desire to consecrate yourself. His nascent Church 
enjoys only a very uncertain peace, which at any 
moment may be disturbed by the storm. Do 
you feel yourself strong enough to be able to 
resist the world and yourself, to dye with your 
blood, if necessary, the veil which is about to be 
placed on your head, and to twine the palm of 
martyrdom with the lily of virginity ? ” 

“ Of myself, hither, I am only misery and sin ; 
but with the help of God’s grace I can do all 
things. My Beloved has infused into my heart a 
love strong as death. I feel that the world and 
the flesh could not pluck it from my bosom. 
With that love what have I to fear ? I could 
brave death and all its terrors. I should be only 
too happy, father, if, as you have just said, my 
Beloved should judge me worthy of reddening 
this holy veil with my blood, as the blessed 
Thecla did, and more recently the virgin Pota- 


180 


The African Fabiola. 


miena, about whose martyrdom the holy Bishop 
of Jerusalem has told us a few days ago.” 

These words produced a profound impression 
on the entire congregation and lit up the face of 
Angela with a heavenly radiance. 

u Generous child,” said the good Optatus, as 
he brushed away a tear, “ may your wish be ac- 
complished. Christ receives you as his spouse, and 
the church of Carthage admits you among the 
number of her virgins.” 

The countenance of the youthful bride of 
Christ regained its habitual calm. Her glance 
seemed to settle again into that mysterious and 
tender expression which it constantly wore dur- 
ing the hours of her ecstasies when she gazed on 
her Beloved. Her parted and smiling lips lisped 
words of gratitude and love which fell rather 
on the heart than on the ear of the beholders. 
She was noticed to press her hands nervously on 
her heart as if apprehensive of being obliged to 
succumb to the violence of her emotions and 
heavenly raptures. 

Then the bishop blessed the different portions 
of the habit prepared for the young virgin, by 
reciting over each the usual prayers already pre- 
scribed by the Church, and which are almost iden- 
tical with those made use of to-day on similar 
occasions. According as they were blessed, 
Rufina and Marcella placed them upon the new 
spouse of the Lamb. Angela was so rapt in 
ecstasy that she neither moved nor seemed to 


The Christian Virgin . 181 

feel even the trembling hand of the bishop as 
he traced the sign of the cross on her forehead 
previous to placing thereon the veil, symbol of 
her solemn consecration. 

Shortly after at a signal from her witnesses , 
she arose, ascended the steps, and laid her head 
on the altar to signify the oblation of herself to 
the Lord ; she then lifted up towards heaven the 
floral crown prepared for her by her companions 
as if to offer it to her Beloved. She returned, 
saluted the altar by a genuflection, and then pro- 
ceeded to give the kiss of peace to her sister vir- 
gins ; meantime a hymn of thanksgiving was 
sung. . . . Soon after the Holy Sacrifice was 
begun. 

When the deacon, in a loud voice, gave notice 
to the catechumens to retire, a young woman, 
weeping and holding her new-born infant in her 
arms, came and knelt before Angela to recom- 
mend herself to her prayers ; this was Yivia, who 
was touched to the depths of her soul upon see- 
ing the young virgin consecrating herself forever 
to the Lord. Angela knew and loved her ; she af- 
fectionately embraced the mother and the child. 
“ Courage,” said she in a low voice, “ courage, 
Yivia, for you, too, will soon wear a glorious 
crown — more fortunate than myself, perhaps, 
for you will purchase it nobly at the price of 
your blood.” Her prophecy was destined to be 
soon fulfilled. 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE REVOLT. 

It was far in the night ; tlie sky was overcast 
and the wind bore clouds of dust as it howled 
fitfully across the plain and echoed to the rumb- 
ling of distant thunder. The soldiers of Jarbas 
had been all day under arms by reason of a false 
alarm raised in the camp, and they now rested 
from their fatigues. No sound was to be heard 
except the monotonous step of the sentinels slow- 
ly pacing to and fro on their rounds. 

An old man was walking rapidly up and down 
in a tent lighted by a flickering lamp. He had 
been watching and waiting so long that he had to 
replenish his little lamp. This man appeared to 
be restless and agitated; lie glanced at the hour- 
glass often and impatiently, and listened at the 
tent door for the slightest noise. 

“ What can have happened to him,” said he to 
himself. (i Has he missed his way in the woods 
or in the sands of the desert? Could he have 
been murdered ? Perhaps he has betrayed me ? 
The wretch ! he is ready to do anything for a lit- 
tle money.” 


182 


The Remit. 


183 


Just then the movable curtain that covered 
the entrance to the tent was stealthily drawn 
aside, and Sylvan us — for it was he that we saw 
and heard in the tent — saw the black slave enter- 
ing covered with sweat and dust. 

u Why, Afer, what has happened to detain you 
so long ? I have been expecting you since yester- 
day. But, say, have you seen the chief of the 
Numidians ? How did he receive my message?” 

“ Badly, very badly at first. I thought I had 
arranged matters so that there could be no diffi- 
cultly ; but the bear ! just think, he coolly took 
me for a spy seeking to examine his troops and 
encampment. He would hardly listen to a single 
word from me ; he thrust me into irons, and put 
me to the torture in order to make me tell my 
business and my secrets. Luckily for me, I had 
nothing to conceal from him, else to escape such 
horrible torture I suppose I would have told 
everything. What a savage fellow is this leader 
of those savages ! I feel all my bones still ach- 
ing and out of joint ; I suppose for the sake of 
this accursed business I shall not have the use of 
my legs for a long time to come ! ” 

“ How did you return to the camp, then ? You 
went on foot to avoid suspicion, you remember.” 

“ By the chief’s orders one of his horsemen 
took me up behind him and brought me to with- 
in a league of the camp. He would come no 
nigher, as it was already dark, and he was afraid 
of being surprised bj r some of the advanced pick- 


184 


The African Fabiola. 


ets. Being thus left to shift for myself as best I 
could, I crawled along: slowly and suffering tor- 
ture at every step.” 

“Well, will he take advantage of the informa- 
tion that I sent him ? W ill he so arrange matters 
as to be here with his cavalry at the nick of time — 
that is to say, to-morrow, l’or then the revolt will 
be at its height ? His co-operation, Afer, is indis- 
pensably necessary to us. I am well acquainted 
with the dispositions and feelings of our soldiers ; 
at the first sign of a revolt many of them will 
side with Jarbas ; unless the confusion which 
must necessarily arise from the sudden attack of 
the enemy’s cavalry aid us, the success of the 
project will be next to impossible.’’ 

“ When the murderous fellow , that tiger with a 
human head , saw that in spite of all his tortures I 
persisted unswervingly in my first declarations, 
he changed his tone and listened attentively to 
what I wanted to say. Then, after a moment’s 
reflection, ‘ To-morrow,’ he said, * I will give you 
an answer.’” 

“ Well, what is it ? ” 

“ He will come with all his cavalry, and it is a 
strong force, as well as I could judge. At noon 
to-morrow he will assault the camp from the 
woods near by, and will fall upon our entrench- 
ments like a thunderbolt. You know how Hu- 
mid ian horsemen can ride ; their horses devour 
space without leaving a hoof-mark on the sand.” 

u Afer, the immortal gods are on our side, and 


The Remit. 


185 


so to-morrow my dagger will be steeped in the 
blood of the bated Yivia’s husband ! Go, take 
some rest ; you need it sorely. Meanwhile, I will 
go to make final arrangements with some of the 
soldiers. ” 

He left the tent after having cautioned his ac- 
complice to preserve secrecy and silence. The 
black slave smiled at this advice ; he knew full 
well that the least indiscretion would cost him 
his life. 

After what we have just related, the reader 
will be -at no loss to divine the object and nature 
of the mysterious interviews in which Sylvanns 
was occupied during the remainder of the night. 
Wo will pass them over, therefore, to come at 
once to the event whose issue was destined to re- 
sult so fatally to the Church of Carthage, but 
especially to the Christian heroine whose glorious 
history we have undertaken to relate. 

At about the third watch the storm came on 
with all that mad fury which belongs to hot cli- 
mates. It soon passed away, however, so that at 
sunrise the clouds had rolled away and left the 
air refreshing and cool. The soldiers swarmed 
from their tents and formed themselves into 
groups to chat and while away the time. The 
false alarm of the previous day was the universal 
topic, and gave occasion to many jokes and much 
merriment. Soon, however, as if chance had so 
ordained it, there appeared to be an orator in 
every group ; excitement, anger, and rage ran 


186 


The A frican Fabiola. 


]ike wildfire among the troops, causing the wild- 
est din and confusion. 

“ What sort of a life is this,” cried some, “ for 
brave men who are accustomed to fight and live 
like soldiers? We do nothing but yawn and lie in 
our tents, or, like blacksmiths, spend the day in 
furbishing our weapons for show and dress pa- 
rade ! Why do we never get a brush at the 
enemy ? ” 

“ Have we obeyed our country’s call, left our 
wives and children,” said others, “ to leave our 
bones to bleach on the burning sands, where no 
one can live as soon as the hot weather sets in ? ” 

“ Our young general cares very little about the 
trouble and inconvenience of his soldiers. His 
own tent is proof against sun and rain ; he has 
his own slaves to rig and trick it up for him. He 
can enjoy himself to his heart’s content, for he can 
eat and drink and play as much as he pleases.” 

“ This Jarbas is an effeminate young fellow, 
then ? I never should have thought so.” 

“ Would that were all! But he is a traitor. 
It seems he has been holding communications 
with the enemy. His messengers have been 
seen going stealthily to the Numidian camp. 
We are betrayed. The day has been appointed 
to deliver us over to the barbarians and to throw 
open to them the gates of Carthage.” 

“ That is a lie ! that is a calumny ! ” cried the 
soldiers who had not yet joined the revolt. 
4 Jarbas never was and never will be a traitor.” 


The Revolt. 


187 


“ The accursed Christians are the enemies of 
the gods and of the country, and are capable of 
any and everything. The man who betrays his 
religion may well betray his country also.” 

“ Who dares to say that our general has gone 
over to the new religion ? ” 

“ Who is so simple and blind as to doubt it 1 ” 
“Were that so ! . . . but no, that is one of 
the lies invented by his enemies. They are 
jealous of his fame, and cannot brook that one 
so young should have been selected by the senate 
to lead the expedition.” 

“Then, if he is not a Christian, why does he 
never show himself when the priests are offering 
sacrifice ? Why has he selected his bodyguard 
from among those who are well known to belong 
to that abominable sect ? ” 

The tumult became greater and louder among 
the troops. In their excitement a number of 
soldiers vowed and swore they would leave the 
camp. Just then appeared old Sylvanus, fol- 
lowed by priests clad in their robes of office. 

Thereupon the ringleaders began to shout: 
“ Here comes that good old man — that man 
loved by the gods, who came hither a few days 
ago like a messenger from heaven. Ask him and 
fie will tell you what should be our opinion of 
Jarbas and what we ought to do.” 

“Brave soldiers,” said the old mountain shep- 
herd, affecting an air of inspiration, “ the gods of 
Carthage are wroth. You seem as if you had 


188 


The African Fabiola. 


abandoned their worship, for it is only rarely that 
their altars are now reddened with the blood of 
a few paltry and lean victims. A wicked and 
sacrilegious religion, of which they have a hor- 
ror, threatens to dethrone them, and to convert 
to its own purposes the incense you formerly 
burned so lavishly in their honor. Their anger 
is ready to fall on you. They have called me 
from out of the desert to give you timely warn- 
ing. They will give their protection to the Hu- 
midians, because these continue to worship them 
and to tolerate no traitor to the ancient faith. 
They will be their allies against you. Unless 
you hasten to propitiate Mars, the God of War, 
he will give them the victory, and the sands 
under your feet shall be your graves. 

“ Soldiers, follow me! I go to seek your 
leader, and to speak to him in the name of the 
immortal gods. He is said to be a Christian. 
The truth shall soon be known. He must de- 
clare, in the presence of the entire army, whether 
he has or has not embraced that abominable creed. 
Mars demands a solemn sacrifice ; this is the 
only way to appease his anger ; but he requires 
that the sacrifice be presided over by your gene- 
ral. If he refuses, then it will depend on your- 
selves whether you be crushed or not under the 
hoofs of the barbarians’ horses.” 

As he ceased speaking a mighty shout arose 
that awoke all the echoes of the desert. The 
soldiers who had remained in their tents now 


The Revolt. 


189 


rushed forth under the impression that the 
Numidians were upon them. In a moment the 
whole army was astir and saw how matters stood. 
Some captains vainly strove to quell the tumult ; 
their powerless voices were drowned in the up- 
roar. Confusion reigned everywhere ; the sen- 
tinels abandoned their posts ; it seemed as if the 
whole camp was suddenly seized with frenzy. 

Jarbas was in his tent ; but as some of his 
guards had apprised him of the attitude assumed 
by the troops, the shouts and cries of the re- 
volters did not come upon him unawares. His 
great soul was not even disturbed. Without put- 
ting on his armor, or even his helmet, he strode 
to the door of his tent. Equally devoid of pride 
or dismay, he calmly viewed the surging crowd 
as they made the welkin ring with their seditious 
cries. When they came within speaking distance : 

“ Soldiers,” said he, in ringing tones, “what 
would ye with your general ? ” 

When lightning suddenly bursts forth and the 
sharp rattle of near thunder falls on the ear, the 
most animated discussions cease ; the traveller 
pauses on his way in fear and awe. At the 
words, Soldiers , what would ye with your 
general f every sound was hushed ; the heaving 
and swaying crowd appeared as if rooted to the 
ground ; the rustling of the bird winging its 
flight overhead could have been heard. But the 
inxorable Sylvanus was there, and, lest a reaction 
should take place, cried out at once : 


190 


The African Fabiola. 


“ General, the army is dissatisfied, and the im- 
mortal gods are angered.” 

“ Who are you,” replied Jarbas with dignity, 
“and who has authorized you to speak for the 
whole army ? Thank your white hairs, old man ; 
had I not been taught to respect that crown I 
should have you instantly arrested by my 
guards.” 

“ My name ? it can matter little to you ; but 
in me you see a man inspired by the gods. They 
it was that sent me thither, and I am here the in- 
terpreter of their sacred and dread will. Heark- 
en to me therefore, O Jarbas! and restrain your 
impatience. Already I have told you the army 
is dissatisfied ; it burns to meet the enemy, but 
instead of leading it against them you keep it 
here in disgraceful inactivity. It is even said 
that you are a traitor to your country, that you 
hold secret correspondence with the barbarians.” 

“ Cease, old man ; Jarbas is above such slander, 
and can answer it only by contempt ! ” 

“ Hurra ! well said ! ” shouted hundreds of 
voices everywhere through the crowd. 

Sylvanus saw at once that he must shift his 
ground or his cause was lost. 

“ Such reports, of course, interest me but lit- 
tle,” said he; “it is for the soldiers to judge 
how much truth there may be in them. I have 
come to speak to you concerning the gods and 
their just displeasure; they complain of having 
been abandoned for a new religion which finds 


The Revolt. 


191 


but too much favor here. Mars, the terrible 
God of War, has sworn to fight in the ranks of 
the Numidians, to deluge the earth with our 
warriors’ blood, unless solemn sacrifice be offered 
to him in the camp this very day.” 

“If there are cowards among my brave sol- 
diers let them follow this man ; let them go and 
butcher a few harmless beasts and spill their im- 
potent blood ; I shall make no opposition. Go, 
poor old man, you have already said more than 
was necessary. ...” 

“ I would have you to understand that I bow 
to no power save that of the gods. I have not 
yet finished. You yourself, at the head of tho 
army, must preside at this sacrifice ; such is the 
will of the invincible son of Jupiter. I await 
your answer.” 

“ You will not have to wait very long. Jarbas 
is a soldier with an army at his back ; he is 
always ready to lead his brave legions to battle 
and to victory ; but he is no sacrificator, nor shall 
his sword be ever sullied by other blood than 
that of his country’s enemies.” 

“Your words betray yon, and I thank the gods 
for it. The report is therefore true ; proud Car- 
thage, Juno’s favored city, has, then, entrusted 
the honor of her flag to a youthful general, who 
secretly despises her gods and belongs to the ac- 
cursed sect of the Christians ! ” 

“ Obstinate old man, wisdom, I perceive, has 
fled from your bosom, for your lips traduce and 


192 


The African Fabiola. 


malign innocent persons, who have done you no 
evil, who are just, law-abiding, and ask only to 
be allowed to follow in peace the dictates of their 
conscience.” 

“ Do you acknowledge that you yourself are a 
Christian ? ” 

“ Jarbas’ s lips have never been polluted by a 
falsehood. Yes, soldiers, the general whom you 
have seen fighting at your head, and who has 
some claim to glory, he whose ambition it is to 
lead you back in triumph to Carthage, after hav- 
ing achieved the overthrow of the Numidians — 
yes, Jarbas is a Christian ; he is one because he 
had to acknowledge that the gods whom he for- 
merly worshipped are no gods, and that the God 
of the Christians is the only true God.” 

There was so much dignity and conviction in 
these words, so much majesty in the speaker’s at- 
titude and looks, that the entire army seemed 
awed into silence and incapable of expressing its 
opinion and feelings. Sylvanus himself grew 
pale, and, forgetting the part he was playing, fum- 
bled under his tunic for the poniard he had there 
concealed, when wild and conflicting cries burst 
suddenly from all the ranks. 

“ Huzza ! long live the general ! ” vociferated 
his faithful body-guard, who were all Christians. 

“Down with Jarbas! down with the trai- 
tor ! death to the despiser of the gods ! ” shouted 
the revolted pagans under the leadership of Syl- 
vanus. 


The Revolt. 


193 


la vain did Jarbas calmly strive to quell the 
tumult, to drown the din of the storm. The 
-thunders of the revolt made it impossible for his 
voice to be heard. Down with Jarbas ! down 
with the traitor ! death to the despiser of the 
gods ! Swords began to leap from their scab- 
bards and lances to be brandished ; the more vio- 
lent urged on the timid and those who still held 
back through respect for the authority of the 
general. 

Just then the blade of a dagger gleamed like 
a flash of lightning. Urged on by the desire of 
revenge and burning for the glory of being first 
to strike Jarbas, Sylvan us rushed on him; but 
before the dagger could descend two guards had 
seized, disarmed, and carried, rather than dragged, 
the assassin to the general’s tent, where they se- 
curely bound him. 

With the exception of the soldiers of the body- 
guard, who, like the general, stood facing the 
army, no one had observed Sylvanus’s bloody deed. 
The others had merely noted the rush made by the 
guards and the hurried arrest of the prisoner, so 
that it appeared as if this had been done by the 
general’s order. This idea fired the soldiers with 
the greatest fury and rage. “He has insulted 
and chained the messenger of the gods,” cried 
they ; u death to this wicked and sacrilegious 
man ! ” A thousand swords were raised to smite 
him. 

But the faithful guards pressed around and 


194 The African Fabiola. 

made him a rampart with their persons, deter- 
mined to defend him against the furious sol- 
diery. 

As Christians they were meek and humble of 
heart, ready to die, to be slaughtered like lambs, 
for the faith ; but they were fearless soldiers also, 
unwavering in discipline and obedience, and they 
now saw in their opponents only rioters and as- 
sassins, whose onslaught they were prepared to 
meet sword in hand. 

A bloody, a fearful slaughter was imminent ; 
on one side were numbers, rage, and blind fanati- 
cism ; on the other, courage, sense of duty, de- 
votedness, and enthusiasm. Swords were being 
crossed, comrades, brothers in arms, were on the 
point of slaughtering each other, when suddenly 
the ground trembled and wild shouts rent the 
air; the Numidian cavalry were rushing like a 
whirlwind on the camp. 

In presence of the enemy the soldier speedily 
forgets his bickerings and resentment ; lie only 
thinks of fighting bravely and winning the day. 
The revolted soldiers instinctively fell back and 
lowered their arms ; the guards did the same. 
Profiting by this momentary lull, Jarbas cried 
out : “ Soldiers, the barbarians are storming the 
camp ; let us at them, and victory shall be ours.” 
At these words the whole army faced about and 
rushed on the Numidians, who had already taken 
possession of the outer entrenchments. 

The general, as we have previously stated, stood 


The Revolt. 


195 


unarmed at his tent door when Sylvanus first 
made liis appearance. When the threatening 
soldiery surged towards him he had only time to 
seize his buckler and sword. Hastily demanding 
his helmet and breastplate, he marshalled his 
troops and placed himself at their head. They 
led out his war-horse, black as ebony, swift as 
the winds of the desert. The faithful steed came 
forth neighing, pawing the ground, and champing 
the bit ; he had heard the sound of the clarion 
and the cry of battle. In another instant Jarbas 
would be at their head. His hand was on the 
flowing mane of his steed, when he was observed 
to stagger and grow pale ; his hand dropped from 
the horse’s mane, and he fell bathed in blood 
among his guards. They had scarcely noticed a 
diminutive, unknown negro, who had glided in 
like a snake and had rushed past the general. 
While he was being supported and led to his 
tent the black had disappeared. 




CHAPTEK XIII. 

THE PARDON. 

The Nmnidians had profited by the informa- 
tion given them by Sylvanus. At the appointed 
hour the cavalry sallied suddenly from a neigh- 
boring thicket, flew across a short stretch of sandy 
plain, and found the camp unguarded. On that 
day the Carthagenian army had been undone had 
not the barbarians, in their love of booty, scattered 
themselves to pillage instead of making in a 
body for the tent of the general-in-chief. Jar- 
bas’s body-guard came up first and fell with such 
fury on the straggling bands that they had not 
time to rally ; the legions lost but little time in 
forming their ranks and presenting a regular line 
of battle. 

Meanwhile the youthful general lay weltering 
in blood on his cot. A skilful leech examined and 
prepared to bind the wounds. Guided by a 
steady and practised hand, tfie dagger had made a 
deep wound in Jarbas’s side a little below the 
heart. The blade must have been thin and 
sharp, for the cut was narrow and the blood- 
flow small. Only three or four of the guard had 
196 



The Pardon. 


197 


remained away from the fight ; their looks ques- 
tioned the man of science and anxiously awaited 
the final decision he was about to pronounce. 

In spite of the death-like pallor of his counte- 
nance, Jarbas had lost nothing of his unruffled 
calmness. His half-opened eyes seemed to fol- 
low his faithful servants and to strive to express 
his gratitude .for their devotedness and grief. 
From time to time he pressed the hands of the 
aged physician as he bent over the bed, attentive- 
ly watching the changes of the wounded general, 
while pretending to be occupied only in stanch- 
ing with tepid water the blood that trickled from 
the wound. 

Aruntius, so the leech was called, was not 
born at Carthage; he was a native of Lybia. 
After his first studies had been passed through at 
home, he visited Egypt, Greece, and Italy, gather- 
ing treasures of knowledge and laboring to per- 
fect himself in his favorite art. After twenty 
years spent in travel, he returned to his native 
place to devote himself wholly to the noble pro- 
fession for which he had so long and so laborious- 
ly prepared himself. 

Being a man of profound research and loving 
the ways and manners of the olden times, he was 
superior to the prejudices that blind or -rather ty- 
rannize over the common herd of the narrow- 
minded multitude. The duties of his profession 
often brought him into contact with Christians. 
Their virtues had challenged his attention. lie re- 


198 


The African Fabiola. 


solved to examine and study a religion that could 
lift up the thoughts and aspirations of men be- 
yond the powers of nature, and could, without 
apparent effort, elevate their hearts and actions 
to the noblest sentiments and most heroic sacri- 
fices. As he sought the truth frankly and ear- 
nestly, grace perfected what study had com- 
menced ; accordingly he had received baptism 
after the usual tests and conditions had been 
complied with. Some years later his bishop had 
judged him worthy of the priesthood, and had 
imposed hands on him. 

The Carthaginian army was preparing to march 
against the Humidians when Aruntius came to 
the city to consult with the metropolitan about 
matters appertaining to the church to which he 
was attached, and which had but recently lost its 
first pastor. The holy prelate was persuaded that 
he had discovered in him a man sent by Provi- 
dence in the very nick of time. There was a con- 
siderable number of Christians in the army, and 
for these the presence of a priest would be a great 
advantage and consolation. Vivia’s husband had 
been appointed to the command ; he had decided 
inclinations towards the new religion ; the sweet 
pleadings of his adored young wife and the im- 
portant discussions had with the irresistible Ter- 
tullian had made a powerful impression on him. 
The work must not be left half done, nor his 
good dispositions be neglected. Hence the pri- 
mate had proposed to Aruntius to accompany the 


The Pardon. 


199 


army, as lie could pass for a physician ; only the 
Christians and their commander would know that 
he was a priest. The self-sacrificing old man had 
readily accepted the offer, and so we now find 
him by the side of the illustrious victim anxious- 
ly striving to save his life. 

Jarbas began to breathe more freely ; his chest 
became lighter and found relief in the flow of 
blood, which Aruntius took good care not to 
arrest ; but he grew sensibly weaker and his looks 
gradually assumed that languid appearance which 
indicates and measures, so to speak, the slow eb- 
bing away of life. Jarbas himself was conscious of 
the approach of death ; he understood it still 
more clearly under the mild workings of the 
grace that spoke louder than all in his heart. 

“ Father,” said he in a weak voice to Arun- 
tius, u what is your opinion of my wound ? It is 
mortal, is it not % ,T 

“ God is all-powerful, my son ! On the very 
threshold of death his breath can give new life 
when he will.” 

“ Venerable Aruntius, fear not. Have I not 
faced death a hundred times on the battle-field ? 
True, it is hard for a soldier to die by the hand 
of a base assassin ! IIow much more preferable 
than this to have fallen gloriously by the steel of 
a brave enemy ! ” 

“ The glory of this world is naught, my son. 
God, who sees its emptiness, gives it not to those 
whom he wishes to crown with his own hand in 


200 


The African Fabiola. 


heaven ; adore, then, his blessed will ; accept the 
sacrifice just as he requires it ; his thoughts are 
wiser than ours.” 

“ Father, forgive this suggestion of pride. I 
humble myself under the hand of God ; but will 
you permit me to leave this world without having 
purified mv soul by the sacred waters of Bap- 
tism?” 

“ The God whom you have so nobly confessed 
to-day in the presence of the whole army has 
already recognized and marked you for one of 
his. . . . Jarbas, do you believe in him ? Do 
you acknowledge him to be the only true God ? ” 

“ 1 do, and I renounce with my whole heart 
all the false gods that I have worshipped in my 
blindness.” 

“ Do you believe in Christ, his eternal Son, 
God and Lord like him, who for our sakes be- 
came man and died on the cross ? ” 

“Yes, I believe in him; I adore, bless, and 
love this God of goodness who has suffered so 
much for me ! His holy name fills my heart with 
confidence and joy. O sweet Jesus, Son of God, 
Son of the Virgin Mary, God of my beloved 
Vivia, thou art mine also ! ” 

“ Do you believe in the Holy Ghost, the Sanc- 
tifier, who spoke by the prophets, inspired the 
apostles and filled them with wisdom and 
strength ? ” 

“Father, I believe all that you have taught 
me, as well as all the inscrutable mysteries of re- 


The Pardon . 


201 


ligion. Holy Church of Christ my Saviour, I 
make profession of all thy faith, I receive every 
article of thy wonderful and sublime creed.” 

Jarbas seemed to rally ; his eyes became less 
dim, ftis face less pale, his voice grew stronger 
and firmer. To look at him then you would have 
thought that he had simply swooned, and that his 
life was in no danger. It was because there was 
so much hope in his soul, and in his heart so much 
love and happiness ! The influence of grace had 
momentarily overcome suffering and the sensible 
action of the gradual sinking which was to end 
so fatally. The venerable Aruntius was not de- 
ceived ; so he hastened for baptismal water, con- 
secrated and kept ready for cases where baptism 
was not given solemnly ; he poured it slowly on 
the brow of the catechumen while pronouncing 
the triple invocation prescribed by Jesus Christ 
himself. 

“ Jarbas,” said he, “ heaven is now open to 
you. If such be God’s will, die in peace. Christ 
awaits you and holds in his hands a crown infi- 
nitely more valuable than any that Carthage 
could bestow upon you after your victories. All 
your sins have been forgiven; imitate the mercy of 
your Saviour — do you also pardon all your ene- 
mies, even the one who so basely murdered you. 
Remember that your Lord on the cross asked for- 
giveness for his murderers.” 

“ The grace of God has filled my soul, father, 
and all hatred has died within me. Methinks I 


202 The African Fabiola. 

can have done no evil to the man who lifted his 
dagger against me ; I know him not. Let him 
be brought hither ; I wish to say to him that I 
die pardoning him.” 

“He has fled, and is now in all probability far 
from the camp ; but the old man who instigated 
the revolt and secretly fanned it for some days 
past lias not succeeded in escaping, and awaits in 
chains the terrible sentence which the army will 
certainly pronounce upon him.” 

“ Let him be brought ; I shall be happy to set 
him at liberty. Perhaps some day he may re- 
member that Christ’s religion is one of charity 
and mercy, and may wish to embrace it.” 

The aged Sylvan us was brought in by the 
guards. The expression of his countenance was 
forbidding and savage. No tremor shook his 
frame as his cold glance surveyed the prostrate 
form of the general lying on his bloody conch. 

“Friend,” said Jarbas to him, “what have I 
done to you ? why have you sought to take my 
life?” 

“ I had sworn to kill you. Afer was more for- 
tunate than I, it appears.” 

“Who is Afer? You are, then, acquainted 
with the man who stabbed me ? ” 

“I may have been wrong, perhaps, to have 
told you his name ; it is enough for you to know 
that he has simply remedied my awkwardness, 
and that I took care to poison his dagger.” 

“ Unfortunate old man, I pity you. But let me 


The Pardon. 


203 


ask once more what could have been the cause of 
jour hatred to me, who never saw you before to- 
day ? ” 

“ Are you not the husband of the base Yivia, 
of that accursed woman who robbed me of my 
child, sole object of my love — of that woman 
whom I hate with all the powers of my soul, and 
who, I hope, will soon go to meet you in the 
gloomy sojourn of the dead ; for she, too, must 
die to sate my vengeance ! ” 

The thought of Fatima now flashed on Jarbas’s 
mind ; he remembered all that he had heard re- 
garding the implacable hatred of her father. 
Since his marriage he had often remarked the 
sweetness, modesty, and docility of that young 
slave, for whom, as we have already stated, Yivia 
entertained all the affection of a sister. 

“ Your daughter is an angel, ” said he to Syl- 
vanus. “ You cursed her, while she has never 
ceased to pray for you. She pardons you for the 
terrible injuries you have done her, for the bitter 
tears you have forced her to shed. May she 
never learn that her unhappy father has made 
her sweet mistress a widow ! Like her, I pardon 
you in the name and for the love of Christ, who 
pardoned me, and who, I hope, will pardon you 
also. Guards, respect the last will of your com- 
mander, and do you, venerable Aruntius, see 
that it be executed without delay ! Let this man 
be set free and let him depart from the camp this 
very hour.” 


204 The African Fdbiola. 

He held out his hand to him, but the old man 
made no movement to seize it. His last glance 
at his generous liberator was one of hate. Jarbas 
raised his eyes to heaven, no doubt to pray for 
him. At that very moment, far from the tent 
where this scene occurred, in one of the wealthiest 
mansions of Carthage, a fervent prayer, accom- 
panied by a flood of tears, went up to God’s 
throne; a young slave was asking pardon tor an 
obstinate sinner, whom she called by the sweefr 
name of father, generously offering herself as a 
sacrifice for his conversion. God in his infinite 
mercy heard this two-fold prayer ; the desire of 
martyrdom and of the gentle victim who immo- 
lated herself in spirit had found acceptance in his 
presence. • 

There had been too much agitation for the dy- 
ing man. Moreover, the assassin’s blade had been 
poisoned, as Sylvanus had declared with such 
savage exultation. The flow of blood began to 
cease in spite of Aruntius’ efforts to make it con- 
tinue, for he foresaw that otherwise the poison 
would act internally, and would speedily bring 
about the sad issue which from the beginning 
he saw was inevitable. He accordingly addressed 
himself to the duty of consoling and fortifying 
the last moments of the man to whom he had 
just now, by baptism, opened the way to hea- 
ven. 

He drew from his bosom a small golden case 
divided into two compartments, which he habitu- 


The Pardon. 


205 


ally carried with him ever since he accompa- 
nied the army. 16 My child,” said he to the dy- 
ing officer, u I deem it necessary in your case to 
forestall the time and end the prudent silence 
wisely prescribed bj the Church in the case of 
catechumens. I have instructed you regarding 
the marvellous and ineffable mystery which shall 
proclaim to the end of time the charity of Christ. 
On the eve of his -death he took bread, blessed it, 
and by his omnipotent power changed it into his 
Body and Blood. Ho conferred upon his priests 
for ever the power of working the same miracle 
as often as they repeat at the altar the words pro- 
nounced by him at the Last Supper. Great is 
your faith ; receive, therefore, the adorable Body 
of your Saviour ; may it be to you the pledge of 
the glorious and eternal life that awaits you.” 

The dying man received the Sacred Host with 
the most profound reverence and piety ; happi- 
ness and love beamed from and lit up his whole 
countenance. Then, opening the second division 
of his precious box he anointed him with holy 
oil, repeating a prayer at each unction according 
to the instructions given by St. James. “ May 
the peace of our Lord be with you,” said he at 
the conclusion of the holy ceremony, after which 
he and the guards knelt in prayer at the foot of 
the bed. 

The pale, discolored lips of the Christian sol- 
dier continued to move in prayer, and fervently 
kissed the crucifix as often as the priest presented 


206 


The African Fdbiola. 


it. Summoning his strength : “ My God,” said 
he, in an almost inarticulate voice, “ I return to 
thee ; receive me into thy paternal bosom ; con- 
sole my loved Yivia, protect my child, and have 
mercy on the man ...” 

His lips ceased to move. 

“ Heaven counts another soul saved,” said the 
aged Aruntius, rising and tenderly closing the 
eyes of the youthful soldier who had just fallen 
asleep in the peace of the Lord and the glory of 
marytrdom. 

Sylvanus was set at liberty beyond one of the 
entrances to the camp, with a warning not to re- 
turn under penalty of forfeiting liis head. Dark 
and silently he wended his way to his mountain 
home, revolving, as he plodded along, new schemes 
of vengeance. 

His departure was not one minute too early, 
for the army was returning after a bloody victory 
over the Numidians, clamoring for possession of 
the old hypocrite who had induced them to revolt. 
They had learned the sad news of Jarbas’s death, 
compassed by the dagger of a slave hired for that 
purpose by the impostor. Had he fallen into 
their hands he would not have had to wait for 
the slow process of a trial ; his torn carcass would 
have been thrown outside the camp to feed the 
vultures of the desert. 

We will not pause to describe the grief and 
lamentations of the army ; the officers and the 
soldiers, even those who had been most violent 


The Pardon. 


207 


during the outbreak, all mourned for him, and 
many, as they smote their breasts, acknowledged 
that they had been accessories to the crime to 
which he had fallen a victim. The tears shed by 
these iron-hearted warriors and these tardy re- 
grets were doubtlessly a glorious tribute paid to 
the dead general ; but he was insensible to the 
glory of a world whose nothingness he now fully 
understood. The Christian hero was now listen- 
ing to the triumphal canticles of the angels and 
of his brethren the elect ; with them he was cele- 
brating the glory of God, the only Omnipotent, 
and, in the words of the priest Aruntius, Christ 
had placed on his brow a crown incomparably 
more precious than any that the gratitude of Car- 
thage could award to him. 




CHAPTEE XIV. 

PRESENTIMENTS. 

There has often been much discussion regard- 
ing the amount of credence to be given to pre- 
sentiments t and by the term are implied certain 
strong, irresistible impressions which, without 
reflection or known cause, seize upon, hold, 
master the mind so that, do what it may, it can- 
not shake them off. As the etymology of the 
word implies, presentiments necessarily regard 
future events, or events which take place at a 
distance or under circumstances that preclude 
their knowledge. 

Freethinkers, whose whole talent consists in 
scoffing at things that are and continue to exist 
without their avowal or consent, smile with pity 
at the word presentiment, especially if they see 
or suspect anything touching on the supernatu- 
ral or divine. Presentiments, they will say in a 
magisterial and dogmatic tone, is only the result 
of imagination, enthusiasm, nervousness, or men- 
tal excitement. It is useless to enquire further 
of these extraordinary men, who pretend to know 
everything, and set themselves up for oracles 
among their benighted fellow-mortals. 

203 


Presentiments . 


209 


It would be in vain to allege that learned, se- 
rious, well-balanced minds have not experienced 
these sudden, unaccountable impressions, and that 
they were incontrovertibly verified by the event 
— that a man young in years and of robust health 
has an irresistible foreboding of proximate death, 
another feels that some calamity is about to befall 
him. Well, these presentiments were felt, were 
repeatedly declared, and were true, for they were 
actually verified. But our self-appointed oracles 
will only answer by the same contemptuous smile, 
the same everlasting formula — phantoms of the 
brain , dreams of an empty or excited imagina- 
tion. 

Every man cannot be a freethinker at will ; 
that requires so much knowledge and ta- 
lent ! We frankly confess that we are not one ; 
that we belong to that unsophisticated class of 
people who candidly believe and admit facts , 
even though they may not be able to explain 
them by natural causes ; so, even at the risk of 
being thought weak-minded and credulous, we 
will relate what happened at Carthage only a few 
hours after the general of its army died by the 
dagger of a hired assassin. 

Two women, both of our acquaintance, are 
conversing together in a room. The one, in the 
humble garb befitting her servile condition, is 
seated and holds in her hands, in an absent and 
distracted way, a piece of embroidery just com- 
menced ; the other, by her bearing and attitude, 


210 The African Fabidla. 

seems to belong to a more exalted rank ; she is 
standing, and holds in her arms an infant which 
she scarcely appears to notice, so deeply is she 
buried in melancholy reverie. Both women are 
pale, and their eyes bear the traces of recent 
tears. They are Yivia, the noble spouse of Jar- 
bas, and Fatima, whom we shall in future call 
Felicitas, this being the name she received on the 
day she was received among the catechumens. 
These women had embraced each other, without, 
however, having exchanged the sweet words of 
affectionate salutation that usually passed between 
them. 

Since her interview with the grave and austere 
Tertullian the young patrician lady has under- 
gone a great change. She is more humble and 
subdued in air and manner ; her garb is less 
stylish although still in keeping with her rank. 
She no longer wears those costly necklaces or 
golden, jewel-bedecked bracelets for which the 
Christian priest had so severely reprimanded her. 
Her long tresses, in which she formerly took so 
much pride, are arranged with less art and care. 
The rich and artistic furniture that we described 
on a former occasion has disappeared ; her couch 
has been replaced by a plain, unornamented bed. 
The mother’s heart still betrays itself, however, 
for the infant’s cradle is still the same. Yivia 
had sold and given to the poor everything that 
was unsuited to the grave and severe tastes of a 
Christian, and was preparing herself by a more 


Presentiments. 


211 


retired life, by prayer and good works, for the 
grace of baptism, which she was to receive at 
Easter-tide. 

After a long pause she said to Felicitas: 

“How late you have come this evening, and 
how long the time has seemed ! Rufina, as you 
are aware, has gone into the country with my 
mother. I was all alone, and I never had greater 
need of a heart and a friend to share with me the 
strange uneasiness and anxiety that oppresses me !” 

“What could one like me do for you, good 
lady ? To serve you devotedly, to assist you in 
tending your child, to rock him to sleep in his 
cradle, to watch with you in his sickness, and to 
try and spare you a little fatigue, is all that a girl of 
my humble rank can do. Assuredly, it is not from 
one like me that you could expect any consola- 
tion in your sorrow.” 

“ How quickly and often you forget the re- 
quest so frequently made, and repeated only yes- 
terday just before we separated ? When I am 
alone with you I am not a mistress but a sister. 
Have we not a common Father in heaven ? Do 
we not adore the same God ? are we not prepar- 
ing for the same baptism ? Before long, shall 
we not be washed in the same waters, dear Feli- 
citas? and shall we not enjoy together the happi- 
ness of sitting at the same table, at Christ’s table, 
and partaking of that heavenly banquet about 
which we have been informed somewhat, but 
which I long to know more clearly and fully ? ” 


212 


The African Fabiola . 


“ How sweet to my ear the name of sister — I, 
a poor orphan, who never knew my mother, and 
who for so many years have been begging of God 
to return to me the love and the heart of a father 
who abandoned me ! Dearest sister, who can 
have annoyed you ? why are you so sad and 
grieved ? ” 

“ Alas ! do I myself know what is the matter 
and what is tugging at my heart-strings ? What 
a crowd of frightful and sad pictures are passing 
through my mind ! What mournful thoughts 
assail me ! I have vainly striven to dispel these 
sad phantoms, but they follow me unceasingly. 
I have wept and prayed ; but prayers and tears 
have failed to bring the relief they usually ad- 
minister to the afflicted soul. O blessed, sweet 
Lord ! if it should be so, it anything should have 
happened to my loved ones, to my dear, fond 
husband ! ” 

“ Why speak thus, Yivia? It is only a few 
days since you received direct intelligence from 
your noble husband, and were informed by him 
that the Numidians still remained hidden in their 
fastnesses; that they dared no longer to cope 
with our victorious troops ; that he momentarily 
expected them to sue for peace, as they would be 
but only too glad to be able to retire with their 
shattered forces into their deserts and mountains.” 

“ May God grant that my fears may prove to 
be groundless ! But listen, dear sister, and judge 
for yourself. It was a short time after noon ; my 


Presentiments . 


213 


child slept quietly in his cradle, and I sat by his 
side. Suddenly I fell to trembling ; I heard con- 
fused shouts and saw frenzied crowds of men 
rushing madly on. It seemed to me as if all this 
tumult was taking place in the camp and hard by 
my husband’s tent. There were soldiers armed 
like ours, and sacrificators such as I remember to 
have seen in my childhood when my father occa- 
sionally took me to the pagan temple. They were 
led by an aged man of a dark and forbidding as- 
pect, but whose appearance revived in me many 
early and half-forgotten memories. I vainly 
strove to turn away my eyes, but do what I 
would he was always before me. The sight of him 
made me shiver ; it was useless to shut my eyes, 
to cover my face with my hands, for I could still 
see that horrid old man. My blood ran cold as 
ice and my limbs were bathe*! in perspiration.” 

“ You must have fallen asleep, and some hor- 
rible dream — perhaps some reminiscence of the 
past . . .” 

“ No, no, Felicitas ; I was as wide awake as I 
am at this moment. All that I tell you passed 
within myself, but appeared as real, and affected 
me as sensibly as if I saw it with my eyes and 
heard it with my ears. Oh ! there can be but lit- 
tle doubt that God is preparing me for some im- 
minent and terrible misfortune. I felt this so 
thoroughly that a cry burst from my soul as I 
called the name of Jarbas ! 

‘‘Exhausted and beside myself, I fell on my 


214 


The African Fabiola . 


knees and threw myself prostrate in prayer. 
When I arose I no longer heard the savage yells 
nor the furious mob brandishing their swords 
around my husband : the old man himself had 
disappeared, A frightful spectacle presented 
itself to the eyes of my soul. Pale and gasping 
for breath, Jarbas lay stretched on a bed in his 
tent. I saw blood, it was his ; it flowed from a 
wound in his heart. Another old man, a stran- 
ger to me, of a mild and venerable aspect, was 
standing by his side. I saw him pour water on 
Jarbas’s head ; he was doubtlessly a Christian 
priest giving him baptism ; I thought I even 
heard the sacred words, Father, Son, and Holy 
Ghost. I perceived also that he gave him some- 
thing white to eat and then traced the sacred sign 
of the cross. on different parts of his body; 
wherever these signs were made the flesh became 
moist and shining. Will you believe it ? 1 heard 
Jarbas’s voice most distinctly. With eyes lifted to 
heaven he prayed, and in his prayer he mentioned 
me and our darling infant ! O Felicitas ! my 
noble husband is dead J In a few days his poor 
remains will be brought back to Carthage.” 

“ God is all goodness, put your trust in 
him.” 

“ He knows that in him alone I place all my 
confidence.” 

“ Your noble spouse will return to you well 
and triumphant ; heaven preserves him to your 
affections, you and he will adore together for long 


Presentiments. 


215 


years to come tlie same God and the same Christ 
his Son.” 

“ Heaven does not give back its saints ; it is I 
who must go to Jarbas. May he not have long 
to wait for me!” 

“But these are nothing more than thoughts 
which you yourself, perhaps, have conjured up in 
your own mind by thinking of your husband and 
his dangers. Must you for this abandon yourself 
to grief and reject all hope ? ” 

“ Sister, these impressions come from God, I 
verily believe. It was his hand that traced in my 
soul those vivid pictures ; they were so distinct 
that even now I think I see them and Jarbas all 
bloody on his bed, and can hear him pronouncing 
my name and that of our child. Ho, I have no 
longer a husband in this world ! . . .” 

She fell sobbing into the arms of Felicitas. 

The two young women remained locked in 
each other’s embraces for a long time weeping 
together. But after having vented their grief 
they called to mind the great Consoler of the af- 
flicted, and accordingly they knelt and prayed 
fervently. Vivia’s heart felt relieved from the 
overwhelming load that weighed it to the earth ; 
prayer had brought to her soul the balm of resig- 
nation. 

“ Dear friend,” she said, “ our Heavenly Fa- 
ther has had compassion on the young widow ! 
His tender pity has lifted up my downcast soul. 
While we were praying I saw Jarbas in heaven, 


216 


The A f t lean Fabiola. 


smiling to me as the angels must smile on those 
souls to which they desire to bring consolation. 
May God give me the grace of being worthy of 
my spouse, worthy of the eternal diadem which 
he showed me. But, beloved sister, you who are 
always so calm and resigned, why did you look so 
dazed and sad when you first came ? Occupied 
with my own sorrows, I neglected to enquire the 
the cause of your sadness. Forgive my selfish- 
ness ! ” 

“ As you are aware, my life is a sorrowful one ; 
I have long* been accustomed to tears, and I do 
little else than weep.” 

“ But you are unusually sad to-day ; you are 
very pale, your eyes are red with tears, and you 
tremble near me, who love you with all the af- 
fection of a sister ; then that unusual delay in 
coming, which I am at a loss to account for in you, 
who are always so punctual and diligent. Conceal 
nothing from me, I beg and entreat ! Have you 
heard any tidings ? Has anything befallen you ? ” 

“ What could I have heard ? I have lived quite 
alone since Kevocatus, the husband you gave me, 
went to the camp with his master, and to-day I 
have seen no one.” * 

Felicitas appeared ill at ease ; she turned aside 
to hide the tears she could restrain no longer. 

“ What is the matter ? ” said Vi via, taking her 
hands and drawing her to her bosom. u If "you 
still love me, tell your sister what pains you so 
deeply.” 


Presentiments. 


217 


“ How can I ? how dare I ? How can I tell 
to Jarbas’s noble wife that the old man who 
seemed to appear to her, and whose scowling and 
forbidding look seemed to strike her with terror, 
and who perhaps — how can I tell her that 
he is the father of the poor unhappy slave whom 
your goodness has so highly favored, and whom 
you a moment ago called by the 'endearing name 
of sister ? Have pity on him and on his unfortu- 
nate child ! ” 

She fell on her knees and kissed Yivia’s feet. 
The young patrician reeled as if thunderstricken ; 
she buried her face in her hands ; her heart beat 
as if it would burst, and to keep from falling she 
had to lean on the bed. As soon as she could 
collect her thoughts and strength she forced the 
young slave from her lowly position and said : 

“ What do you mean, Felicitas ? Go on, I en- 
treat you. Perhaps I have excited your imagi- 
nation by my imprudent recital of what had 
alarmed me. Besides, did I not tejl you that I 
did not recognize the old man, although it 
seemed to me that I had seen him before ? ” 

“ In the name of Jesus Christ, whom you have 
taught me to know and love, will you pardon 
that man , my unhappy father, for it is he?” 

“ Were he even the murderer of my beloved 
Jarbas I would forgive him, for Christ’s sake and 
for the sake of obtaining mercy for myself.” 

She affectionately clasped the slave to her 
bosom. 


218 


The African Fabiola . 


i ‘Blessings upon jour bead ! may God bestow 
on you a hundredfold the generous pardon grant- 
ed for his sake ! I may now reveal to you the 
secret that I had determined to lock for ever in my 
bosom. Listen, then, in turn to what befell me. 
It was also shortly after noon ; the most oppres- 
sive sadness came upon me suddenly and without 
apparent cause. My heart was steeped in an 
ocean of bitterness, tears streamed from my 
eyes ; but, just as in your case, my tears brought 
no relief. My sadness was unlike anything ever 
experienced in all my sad life. I never before 
felt such anguish ; I could scarcely breathe ; I 
trembled for the life of my unborn child. In 
my terror and anguish I prayed to the Blessed 
Virgin, in the name of her beloved Son, to have 
pity on me. I lay motionless and prostrate on 
the ground. I know not how long I remained in 
this condition ; can the man miraculously saved 
from the jaws of death tell how long his agony 
lasted ? Mine was the agony of the heart. 

“When I came to myself my sadness and tears 
were as great as ever, but I breathed with 
greater ease. I felt that my infant lived, and I 
fervently returned thanks to God. Every day I 
pray, as you are aware, for my unhappy father, 
that God in his infinite mercy would have com- 
passion on him. I then heard an interior voice 
pronounce these words very distinctly : Oh / 
pray for him ; his last hour is come ; he is 
falling into the hands of God’s justice . It seems 


Presentiments. 


219 


to me as if. these words are still re-echoing in 
thunder-tones in my heart. 

“ I know not who had spoken to me. Was it 
an angel from heaven come to warn me to avert 
by my prayers the anger of God about to fall on 
my guilty parent ? or was it the Lord himself 
that paused in merciful pity before striking the 
blow ? Who am I that God or his angel should 
come to me ? All I can say is that the voice 
spoke as plainly as if I saw and heard the speaker 
with eye and ear. 

“ I drew forth and pressed to my trembling lips 
the cherished crucifix you gave me on the day of 
my reception among the catechumens, and which 
I always carry on my person. I bathed it with 
my tears, beseeching our merciful Lord to spare 
and pardon my father, as he on the cross par- 
doned the dying sinner at his side. I renewed 
the sacrifice of my life, so often offered before for 
the salvation of him who loved me so much and 
who has covered himself with guilt through ex- 
cess of blind affection for me. ‘ Pray,' repeated 
the voice, ‘ pray for him.' 

‘ i Shortly after I lost consciousness, not sud- 
denly, but as if I had swooned away ; I know 
nothing about the ecstasies or raptures of which 
I heard you speak as being of such frequent oc- 
currence with the saintly Angela ever since her 
childhood. Besides, God does not grant such 
privileges to a miserable sinner like me. These 
are doubtlessly reserved for pure, innocent souls, 


220 


The African Fabiola. 


for hearts burning with divine love. What I do 
know is that the violence of my emotions and 
agony exhausted all my strength so that I had 
neither the will nor the power to move. At all 
events, I saw my father as plainly as if he stood 
within a few feet of me. His emaciated cheeks 
were furrowed by deep wrinkles, his forehead 
was bald, and a few thin, white locks fell strag- 
gling upon his bent shoulders. How very old 
he had grown in a few years ! 

“ His dark and forbidding countenance — just 
the same as it was when he flung me from him 
with an oath — breathed hatred and revenge. His 
eyes, though riveted on some person whom I could 
not see in the darkness, shot lightning glances 
too terrible to be looked at. His hands and feet 
were loaded with heavy chains ; near him were 
frightful instruments of torture and punishment. 
The sight of them made my blood run cold, for I 
felt they were brought for him. I thought, too, 
that the ground was gradually opening under 
him, revealing deep chasms, horrible to behold, 
full of darkness and half lit up with lurid and 
unnatural flames. 

“ In terror I shrieked : Mercy , 0 my God ! 
for my unfortunate father. Methought I then 
heard a feeble voice, like that of a dying person, 
gently utter the words, Pardon him. Suddenly 
the scene changed ; all the series of its horrible 
pictures vanished; my father was alone, there 
was sadness in his face, but there was also a cer- 


Presentiments . 


221 


tain calmness that lent to his appearance some- 
thing of its former tranquillity. His eyes were 
wet with tears, he was praying on his knees, as the 
Christians do, before two plain tombs lit up by the 
light of many lamps suspended from the vault. 
When I recovered from my swoon and collected 
my scattered senses I found myself quite exhaust- 
ed and could scarcely drag myself hither to you. 
But everything that I had seen in my strange 
trance remained so stamped on my mind that I 
still see them as plainly as I did then. What 
can all this mean ? what are those two tombs at 
which my father prayed and wept ? Iam per- 
fectly bewildered. Does our Lord condescend to 
warn and prepare us for the accomplishment of 
his designs ? Can it be possible that your noble 
husband has been assassinated ? And if so, was 
he regenerated by the saving waters of Baptism ? 
Is he now in glory as he appeared to us both ? 
Has my father spilt blood in his hatred of our 
holy religion ? Or rather, has not the spirit of 
illusion and fear come to disturb the peace of our 
souls and to shroud in grief the pure joys we feel 
in the Lord since we were informed that we 
should be admitted to the holy mysteries next 
Easter? We shall soon know. God will have 
pity on us ; let us hope in him and commit our- 
selves to his paternal providence. But, oh ! do 
you not abandon the poor orphan ; give me your 
affection, you shall ever have my gratitude and 
devotedness ; may God ever guard you, who have 


222 


The A frican Fabiola. 


been so kind to me ; may lie soon bring you back 
your fond husband, and may his angels watch 
around the cradle of your infant ! If God re- 
quires a victim, behold I am ready ; I would 
gladly lay down my life for you, sister dear, since 
you will that I call you so, and for my poor fa- 
ther, that he may one day find mercy. ...” 

After having joined in prayer, they bade each 
other “ good-night” and both retired to rest. 




CHAPTER XY. 

FALSEHOOD AND TEMPTATION. 

Hews of the death of the gallant young soldier 
Jar has speedily reached Carthage. A faithful 
and trusty messenger, in the person of the slave, 
Revocatus, was despatched from the camp by 
Aruntius to bear the tidings to Yivia. After 
official notification, the senate, even before ap- 
pointing a successor to take command of the army,- 
had solemnly decreed the honors of a triumph to 
the youthful hero so prematurely stricken down 
by death. By virtue of this decree his remains 
were to receive the same ovation and honors that 
would have been given to himself were he living, 
and a laurel crown was to be placed on his tomb 
as a mark of the country’s gratitude. The legis- 
lature of Carthage, while it honored in this man- 
ner the memory of Jarbas, was as yet ignorant of 
the fact that he had died a Christian and a mar- 
tyr to the faith. 

Although the presentiments of which we have 
spoken in the preceding chapter had partially 
prepared Yivia, still the news of her husband’s 
tragic end was a terrible blow. She shut herself 
up in her apartments with her mother, the pious 
223 


224 


The African Fabiola. 


Ruffina, and Felicitas, and found consolation only 
in prayer and in the tender and kind words of 
the saintly Julia. Bishop Optatus .and Tertullian 
came to visit her. The powerful exhortations of 
these men of God animated her faith and gave 
strength to her wounded heart. She wept, 
but who could blame the tears of a young 
woman so soon a bereaved widow? but her 
grief was devoid of violence, murmuring, or im- 
patience. She had every reason 'to -believe that 
Jarbas had gone to heaven, where she hoped to 
be able to meet him speedily ; this confidence not 
only lessened the bitterness of her tears but filled 
her soul with that pure and heavenly peace which 
is known only to those who have the hopes of 
eternity. 

After having stabbed Jarbas, Afer, taking ad- 
vantage of the confusion and excitement, slunk 
unnoticed from the camp. Although still suffer- 
ing from the effects of the torture, he travelled 
solitary by-ways until night fell. He then rested 
a little. Being a child of the desert, the course of 
the sun and the movement of the stars were un- 
failing guides to his feet. He had a double ad- 
vantage in travelling in this manner : he ran less 
risk of being overtaken by the soldiers in case 
they should be on his track, and by following a 
straight line he would reach the city more speedi- 
ly ; he was so impatient to clutch the double 
reward he so well deserved, plenty of gold and 
freedom ! On the fifth day he descried the 


Falsehood and Temptat&n. 


225 


domes of the city, but out of precaution he kept 
aloof until the streets were deserted and the 
houses closed ; thanks to the darkness, he reach- 
ed Jubal’s house unperceived. 

Old Sylvanus, however, had not been quite as 
careful or swift as the black slave. As Jarbas, 
before expiring, had ordered his release, he knew 
that nobody would molest him on his journey. 
So he trudged along leisurely, found Fatuma 
very much alarmed on account of his prolonged 
absence, because he had not acquainted her with 
his visit to the camp, and, having quieted her 
fears, sought a few hours’ rest in his tent. He 
then repaired to Carthage, where he was known 
to none except his old comrades. His first step 
was to present himself at the house of Afer’s mas- 
ter, under pretext of informing him of what had 
taken place, in case his accomplice had not been 
able or had not dared to inform him about the 
result of his mission, but in reality to carry out 
his oath of revenge on Yivia herself, after hav- 
ing first stabbed her through the object of her 
tenderest affections. The deadly hatred he enter- 
tained for her could be sated only by her blood. 
Jubal had liberally rewarded the fidelity of his 
slave by bestowing on him more money than he 
had promised ; but, reflecting that he might still 
need his services, he always deferred his libera- 
tion from slavery. In vain did Afer remind him 
of his bargain ; in vain did he urge that Carthage 
was no longer a safe place for him ; that he might 


226 


The African Fabiola . 


be questioned at any moment about his long ab- 
sence from the city ; that, in fine, he was of no 
further use since those Humid ian rascals had 
maimed him with their accursed tortures. The 
choleric young man flew into a rage and made 
answer that he had power of life and death over 
his slave so long as he had not signed the instru- 
ment of his manumission. Afer knew his 
master’s temper too well, so he had to resign him- 
self to await patiently better dispositions and 
more favorable opportunities. 

The high-priest, continually occupied in nurs- 
ing schemes of vengeance against Tertullian, was 
speedily informed by old Sylvanus of the occur- 
rences that had taken place in the camp the day 
of Jarbas’s assassination by the negro slave. 

Felicitas’ father narrated to him the history of 
his wrongs, the reason of his sworn hatred to 
Yivia and the detested Christians. The vindictive 
priest lauded him exceedingly, commended his 
zeal for the sacred cause of the gods, and took 
especial pains to portray to him the abominable 
practices of the Christians, in which, of course, 
his unhappy daughter participated. The old 
hypocrite had too much interest in arousing the 
fanaticism and fanning into flame the mad pas- 
sions of the mountain shepherd. He saw in him 
a tool very useful in the scheme he was now 
planning. His greatest hope, however, was in 
Jubal’s mad recklessness with regard to Yivia; 
so he sought him secretly one evening. 


Falsehood and Temptation. 227 

“ The holy work has been happily commenced, 
it seems,” began he at once ; u two men under 
your roof-tree deserve well of the gods and the 
country. Vivia’s husband, as you are probably 
aware, had betrayed his religion, and this explains 
his secret interviews with Tertullian, that detest- 
able priest who, were he Ire t alone, would end by 
sweeping the people from our temples and the 
sacrifices from our altars. But now that we can 
prove, and that the whole city will soon know, 
that Jarbas was a Christian, that the revolt in 
which he perished was caused by his attachment 
to that accursed sect, the opportunity must be 
seized to stir up the people and to force the gov- 
ernor and the senate to proscribe, once for all, 
this new religion, as the edicts of our pious em- 
perors direct and command.” 

“Jubal is not accustomed to bother himself 
with religion,” answered the hot-headed youth. 
“If your Jupiter is a god, let' him take ven- 
geance on his rival, the Christ of the Christians ; 
that is his business, not mine. The arrogant 
Vi via has insulted me ; you told me, if you re- 
member, to take revenge on the man whom she 
had the assurance to prefer to me. I committed 
my cause to the tried fidelity of Afer ; his dagger 
gave me the satisfaction I wanted. But as for . 
her , my vengeance must reach her too ; she must 
be mine, were it only for one instant. Her pride 
I will pull down, I care not how, or I shall go to 
the shades with the husband for whom she 


228 


The African Fabiola. 


mourns. Then put aside, I beg you, the ridicu- 
lous subject of religion and worship. Upon this 
condition I am prepared to listen to your advice, 
although it lias been my invariable custom to 
follow only my own.” 

“ When years shall have made you wise, per- 
haps you will not think as you do at present. 
But if you take no interest in the struggle in 
which the future of our ancient religion is in- 
volved, at least pay attention to what interests 
you personally. The haughty Yivia, whom I de- 
test as much as you do, has insulted you ; she re- 
jected your name and hand, while I have heard 
more than one patrician lady say that the woman 
of your choice might well be envied by the 
highest and best in the land ! But are you aware 
of the real reason of her disdainful contempt for 
you ? ” 

“ Her heart, I believe, had been already given 
to another; she loved, and perhaps her love was 
returned ; for, mind you, I am no fool to give 
credence to nursery tales of virtue, nor have I 
ever believed one word about her hypocritical 
chastity. Yirtue ! where is it ? It is a high- 
sounding, pretentious word, behind which proud 
people strive to screen their weaknesses.” 

“ Jubal, you may be right in not believing in 
virtue, especially when it shrouds itself in such 
external asceticism. Our gods are not so severe 
and savage, and I confess I can hardly bring my- 
self to believe that the heart of a girl can be 


Falsehood and Temptation. 229 

stronger and do more than they. You deceive 
yourself when you attribute Yivia’s conduct to- 
wards you to the fact of her having loved some 
one else and her love having been reciprocated. 
I can tell you she had entirely different reason, 
and I have it on the very best authority.” 

“ In humbling and rejecting me, could Yivia 
have possibly any other motive ? Please explain 
yourself, I do not like hints and half-way reve- 
lations.” 

“ Nor will I hide anything from you. Know 
then, Jubal — and she herself has boasted of it — ■_ 
she ignominiously refused you only because you 
were not a Christian.” 

“ That is not so ; at the time she was not a 
Christian herself.” 

“ That was dissimulation on her part, for she 
had long before secretly embraced the new reli- 
gion. Are you not aware that her mother has 
been a Christian these many years ? ” 

u At any rate, Jarbas was no more a Christian 
than I when she accepted and married him.” 

c ‘ True ; but she had stipulated the conditions ; 
being smitten with love, he swore he would be- 
come initiated. Kemember the story of the old 
camel-driver ; his account of the death-scene 
leaves no room for doubt.” 

“ Well, what do I care if, to please his new 
wife, Jarbas, with or without sincerity, changed 
his religion ? Who says that Yivia rejected me 
because I was not a Christian ? ” 


230 


The A fi ican Fabiola. 


“I, or rather she herself. I remember the ex- 
act words as they were at the time repeated to 
me. 6 Jubal,’ she said, c is a noble youth, well 
educated, of good disposition, wealthy, and of 
illustrious lineage ; butaman'of his disposition 
and habits cannot be expected to become a con- 
vert to our religion ; it would necessarily appear 
too austere for him. I shall never, however, 
inarry any man except a Christian or one who 
will promise me to become a Christian Is not 
that plain enough to remove all doubt? ” 

This was a deliberate falsehood, of course, 
but the pagan priest when he invented and put 
these words in Yivia’s mouth imagined that the 
choleric Jubal would fly into a rage and would 
swear an implacable hatred to the whole sect of 
Christians. To his surprise, however, the young 
man did not yield to one of his usual fits of pas- 
sion, but fell into silence and seemed to be occu- 
pied with his own musings and thoughts. 

“ Jubal,” said he in a slightly mortified tone, 
“ do you think I am simple enough to listen to 
idle hearsays like a child, or so mean as to betray 
by a falsehood the respect I owe to my office and 
to my hoary head ? ” 

“ I have no motive to suspect your seriousness 
or sincerity ; hence I do believe your words. 
What a wonderful change they have suddenly 
produced in my mind! So, then, Yivia did not 
despise me ! If, on a certain occasion, she wound- 
ed my pride by a stinging rebuke that may 


Falsehood and Temptation. 231 

scarcely be forgotten, the reason was because I 
made a mistake and thought she was like all the 
young women with whom I was acquainted in 
society. I wounded her delicacy by a thought- 
less and imprudent sally ; this was the construc- 
tion she put on it herself when she afterwards 
refused my hand. So, then, her only objection 
to me was on the score of religion ! Am I justi- 
fied in imputing that to her as a crime ? O Vi- 
via ! why did I not understand you better then ? 
I would not have hated you ; perhaps we would 
have been united by sweet and holy bonds. By 
your side would I certainly have found the hap- 
piness which I seek in vain in the thousand fleet- 
ing attachments in which my poor heart has 
grown weary and exhausted ever since my boy- 
hood.” 

“ What do you mean, Jubal ? To please Yivia 
would you have embraced the abominable religion 
of the Christians, at the risk of making yourself 
a by-word and a laughing-stock to all your boon 
companions throughout the entire city ? Or 
rather, would you have essayed the task of un- 
deceiving and bringing her back to the worship 
of the gods of her childhood ? ” 

“ I have told you a hundred times that I do not 
believe in your gods. I know too much about 
them, you see ; they are no better than myself, 
and you may rest assured I have no ambition to 
be worshipped on an altar or to have incense 
burned in my honor.” 


232 


Tlie Af rican Fabiola . 


“ Still, there is no middle course ; either you 
must believe in our immortal gods with all the 
wise men of every age, or in the man named 
Christ, that miserable Jew, who was crucified for 
his crimes, and whose impious doctrines have 
hitherto succeeded in seducing only a handful of 
poor slaves and a few women from the common 
herd of the people.” 

“ Vi via is neither a poor slave nor a woman of 
the lower ranks ; she is a patrician lady, and it is 
conceded on all hands that she is distinguished by 
education and character as well as by birth and 
position.” 

“ She is young and inexperienced ; it was no 
difficult matter to dupe a woman like her. How 
could she resist the attacks of that fanatic, Ter- 
tullian?” \ 

“If Tertullian is a fanatic I am not aware of 
it. What I do know is that Carthage may well be 
proud of being able to reckon him among her sons. 
I have heard him plead in cases of the utmost 
importanQe; his remarkable eloquence swept 
everything irresistibly before it. I assisted at his 
lectures when he was professor of rhetoric. I 
remember how we admired his great talent, his 
wonderful genius. The day that witnessed his 
conversion gave the new religion its most noble 
and glorious conquest.” 

“ You have certainly lost your senses, Jubal ; 
you are no longer yourself. I make no doubt 
you will soon forsake your pleasant ways ; you 


Falsehood and Temptation . 233 

will bid adieu to your gay comrades, and will af- 
fect a melancholy and austere sort of life, just as 
all these Christian hypocrites do.” 

“ Just now, at all events, I am not in the 
humor of doing anything of the sort. But even 
if I were, where would be the great harm? 
Olympius, put a stop to these base recrimina- 
tions of men who are not here to defend them- 
selves. After all, they are as free as you 
or I.” 

“ They must have gained you over somewhat, 
to make you side with them so earnestly. Oh ! 
indeed, what astonishing news for the whole city 
to learn some fine day that the gay Jubal, the 
leader of all fun, the hero of all the routs and 
revels of the town, has suddenly turned Chris- 
tian ! ” 

“ I have said, and I repeat, I have not yet 
gone quite so far ; but Yivia is a Christian, you 
must remember.” 

“ She is your enemy.” 

“ She may have been ; she is so no longer.” 

“ What ! only a moment ago you swore a mor- 
tal hatred to her ! You sought her dishonor and 
blood!” 

“ My hatred has vanished. The honorable as- 
surances given by you a little while ago have 
produced a revolution in my feelings. Now I 
feel I love her with a love worthy of her.” 

“ Gods ! can it be possible you could love the 
woman that insulted you so grievously ? How 


234 


The African Fabiola. 


long is it since the loathed hawk has become so 
enamored of the gentle dove f ” 

This reminder, so maliciously evoked by the 
pagan priest, made Jubal turn pale with anger ; 
his breast heaved, his heart seemed ready to 
burst, as it did when the haughty patrician first 
spoke those stinging words. His lips quivered 
and gave forth hoarse, inarticulate sounds, and 
his eyes shot fire like those of a wounded tiger. 
The old man gazed on him with diabolical satis- 
faction ; he had evidently touched the right 
chord, and had lit up all the fires of hatred in that 
heart, that had begun to open itself to better im- 
pulses. In his frenzied rage Jubal’s first thought 
was to rush out and say to his slave : “ Afer, 
seize your poniard once more. I must have the 
haughty Vivia’s blood!” He paused, how- 
ever, on his way to the door, and, bridling 
his rage by an effort that surprised even himself, 
he approached the high-priest, and, looking in 
his face, cried : 

“ Olympius, beware of ever uttering one word 
of what you have just now said to me ; you may 
not do it with impunity ! ” 

The words were accompanied by a threatening 
gesture which made the hoary old coward tremble. 

“ Why fly into such a passion ? ” he asked. “I 
protest I had no intention of offending you. 
Learn to know me better ; I am always anxious 
to aid you by advice and place at your service 
the weight of my influence and office.” 


Falsehood and Temptation. 


235 


“ I tell you plainly I look upon your advice 
as very questionable. As for your influence, I 
can well afford to do without it. Do not ima- 
gine you can inveigle me into the perpetration of 
a new crime, for you shall not. I begin to see 
your aim. You hate the Christians ; you hate 
Tertullian. Every word you utter clearly proves 
that your object is only to instigate a bloody per- 
secution against those who refuse to adore your 
gods in order to ensure the destruction of the 
man you hate. The fate of the Christians con- 
cerns me but very little ; I shall not accuse nor 
defend them. But if Yivia’s head is endangered 
beware, for I shall hold yours responsible. You 
know me ; Jubal does not say things twice !” 

The pagan priest saw the futility of further 
dissimulation, since Jubal had read him so 
thoroughly. Having, however, shrewdly calculat- 
ed all the possible difficulties of the case, he came 
to the conclusion that the moment had arrived to 
try his last resort — intimidation. He was con- 
fident this new plan of attack would ensure success. 

u Yes,” cried he vehemently; ‘‘yes, this ac- 
cursed sect must perish ; this detested priest 
must atone for the insult done me, for I also 
have been outraged. But as you refuse to aid 
my plans, know that you shall not save your 
Vivia. I swear to you by the immortal gods 
that I myself will demand her blood.” 

u False and cruel man ! had I my dagger about 
me that would be your last speech. But fivia 


230 


The African Fdbiola. 


shall not perish ; I will protect her, and woe to 
the wretch who would dare to touch a hair of her 
head ! ” 

“ Rash youth, how could you help her ? Would 
she herself condescend to accept your impotent 
protection ? She despised and rejected you ; now 
she abominates you with all the powers of her 
soul.” 

“Yivia is too good, her heart too noble, to 
hate ; when she will see that my love for her is 
as pure as it is sincere she will not reject it.” 

u Do not deceive yourself, Jubal ; betwixt you 
and her there is an impassable gulf; there is 
blood ! Do you imagine she does not know that 
her husband has fallen by the dagger of your 
slave ? Everybody believes and says it. It is 
reported that his sudden flight did not prevent 
some of the guards from recognizing him. 
Listen to me, Jubal,” continued he in a more in- 
sinuating and milder tone, “ in spite of what has 
passed between us, I still desire to serve you. 
Even in the supposition that these reports result 
in nothing, that Sylvanus and Afer remain silent, 
I am in possession of your secret ; what guaran- 
tee have you that I may not betray it ? r I here 
will be no difficulty in obtaining the avowal of 
your kw, as he is called. A slave, especially 
one of his stamp, is not going to die on the rack 
rather than betray his master. But you will 
enter a protest. Df what avail will that be ? Is 
it not known that Afer is only a pliant tool in 


Falsehood and Temptation. 237 

your hands — that it was he who struck the blow, 
but that it was you who designated the victim ? 
Your name, your influence, your father’s reputa- 
tion have hitherto been able to restrain the stem 
severity of the law. A few insignificant slaves 
and obscure women, by falling victims to Afer’s 
dagger, could not, of course, have appeared of 
much importance in the eyes of the magistrates. 
But in the present case it is a question of a 
young nobleman, of the general of the army ! 
His family has power, his wife has influence. 
Carthage feels for her misfortune. Let me say 
but one word and Jarbas shall be avenged. You 
must, therefore, see very plainly that my silence 
has the right of exacting the observance of cer- 
tain conditions.” 

The man who is clean of heart, whose con- 
science has nothing to fear from human justice, 
can afford to be resolute and independent. But 
he who has perpetrated a grievous crime and has 
incurred the high penalty of the law, belongs no 
longer to himself; he is at the mercy of his ac- 
complice, or of any one who may inform against 
him. In spite of his repugnance, a word or beck 
is capable of compelling him to perpetrate new 
crimes, and to descend* even to the lowest depths 
of infamy. Jubal found himself in this predica- 
ment ; he understood his position perfectly. 

u At least,” said he timidly, u let Lady Yivia 
incur no danger. Promise me this, I beseech 
you ? ” 


238 


The Afi lean Fabiola. 


u Then you love this woman very much ? ” 
u More than everything else in the world. 
Oh ! do not thwart my affection ; my heart feels 
as if rejuvenated ; she fills it to the brim ever 
since you taught me to know her better. A mo- 
ment ago it would have been a satisfaction to see 
her dying at my feet, and now I tremble at the 
bare thought of any danger befalling her.” 

“ Jubal, her fate depends on yourself.” 

“ I thank you for the assurance ; you can now 
speak, I shall comply with all your demands.” 

The young man was at his mercy, and the 
hoary old hypocrite had succeeded beyond all 
his hopes. He hated Vivia from the simple fact 
of her being a Christian, and he confidently 
hoped to involve her in the common ruin as soon 
as he should have no further need of J ubal’s as- 
sistance. Had the latter been able to note the 
wicked smile that contracted Olympius’ lips as 
he gave the assurance of Yivia’s safety he might 
have plucked up some courage and spirit ; but he 
was too busy with his hopes to see anything. 

“Jubal,” continued the pagan priest, “my 
conditions are very simple and easy, if you give 
proof of cordial co-operation. You can dispose 
of your black slave as you please ; he has com- 
promised himself too much, so I leave him to 
you. But you have received and now shelter 
under your roof a man who may be very useful 
to me — I mean old Sjdvanus ; I wish to have him 
near me ; besides, it is his own desire.” 


Falsehood and Temptation . 239 

u He is yours from this moment ; you are 
aware, however, that I have no claim to him. 
He is my guest, not my slave.” 

u Your friends are many and influential ; your 
rank opens to you all the doors of the aristocracy 
of the city. Use them and your best efforts to 
bring odium on the Christian's ; do all in your 
power to stir up the people against them. Pay 
particular attention to the fanatic Tertullian ; 
hold him up as the mainstay of the sect and the 
most ardent propagandist of the new doctrines. 
Speak boldly against the apathy of the senate, 
the indifference shown by the magistrates and 
governors in spite of the severe laws enacted by 
our august emperors.” 

“ Although the part you assign me is not 
suited to my tastes nor habits, still I will do as 
you command.” 

u This is not all — nay, what I have still to say 
is perhaps the most important. Jarbas’s remains 
are daily expected. Preparations have been made 
to receive them with grand public demonstra- 
tions; it is of vital importance that no such 
honors should be paid to the corpse of a vile 
Christian. Cost what it may, either the blind 
decree of the senate must be revoked, or the 
people, in their sovereign capacity, must take the 
matter into their own hands and do the needful. 
Be up and doing, therefore, Jubal, lose not a mo- 
ment, and remember that to ensure success all 
means are legitimate.” 


240 The African Fabiola. 

66 To insult the remains of Jarbas were to af- 
front Yivia herself. I have already informed you 
that I love her, that the happiness of my life de- 
pends on her. Moreover, what is the use of such 
savage vengeance on a dead body ? ” 

“ How badly you understand your own interests, 
J ubal, by yielding thus to such mistaken delicacy 
and puerile sensitiveness ! Can you not under- 
stand that Yivia’ s pride must be humbled, that 
she must begin to fear for herself, which she 
never will so long as she continues to imagine 
herself protected by her husband’s name? But 
the moment she begins to feel her weakness and 
isolation, rest assured, she will become more 
tractable and mild. The ivy thrives and grows 
only so long as it is supported by the trunk to 
which it clings; let the tree fall, with it the ivy falls 
to the ground and is trampled under foot. So, 
too, if you love Yivia, if you judge her worthy 
of bearing your name, you must first humble that 
pride of which she has no small share ; she must 
feel how isolated, abandoned, and unsupported 
she is in her widow’s weeds ; you will then tender 
her your protection, and, you can rest assured, 
she will be but too glad to receive it. You see I 
have not only kept my word, but I also prepare 
the way for you to arrive at the heart of the wo- 
man whom you love.” 

It was thus the cunning old man flattered the 
young patrician’s passion the better to enlist him 
in the furtherance of his schemes. Jubal al- 


Falsehood and Temptation. 241 

lowed himself to become the dupe of these wily 
promises and pledged himself to follow all the in- 
structions of Olympius. That very day he sent 
Sylvanus to the priest and manumitted Afer. 
The negro quitted Carthage without delay, for he 
felt he was not safe within its walls. Olympius 
did not meet with the like success with the go- 
vernor of the province, whom he had gone to see 
in hot haste. In spite of all his endeavors, he 
had not succeeded in inducing him to take mea- 
sures against the Christians. As we shall see 
further on, he found less resistance on the part 
of another magistrate. 




CHAPTER XVI. 

THE CHRISTIANS TO THE LIONS. 

So long as the Emperor Severus had had com- 
petitors for the crown, he permitted the Chris- 
tians to practise their religion unmolested. He 
was perfectly aware of their fidelity ; he knew 
he had nothing to fear from them ; moreover, 
his army had no better or braver soldiers. But 
as soon as the death of Niger and Albinus had 
left him undisputed possession of the empire, and 
the revolted provinces had been brought to sub- 
jection by his victorious legions, his previous po- 
licy was cast aside. Had he come to the conclu- 
sion that the atrocious calumnies laid to the 
charge of the Christians with redoubled maligni- 
ty were true ? In blind attachment to the wor- 
ship of idols, had he grown afraid of the daily 
progress made by the Gospel ? or did he, through 
pride, seek to add new glory to his name by over- 
throwing a religion that had withstood all the 
power of mighty Rome, and all the efforts of four 
great persecutions ? On this point history is si- 
lent. Be this as it may, in the tenth year of his 
reign he published the most severe edicts against 

242 


The Christians to the Lions . 


243 


the Christians ; this was a signal for a fifth per- 
secution, and, although the blood of martyrdom 
was not shed in some provinces, it raged with 
such fury that people began to think the time of 
Antichrist had come. 

Egypt, the home of every sort of superstition, 
had received and rigorously enforced the imperial 
edict. The celebrated Christian schools of Alex- 
andria had become widely known and had drawn 
scholars and students from every land to that 
city. A great number of martyrs here suffered 
for the faith. The illustrious Clement, to avoid 
death, fled to Cappadocia, where he governed a 
church whose bishop was languishing in pri- 
son. Origen’s father was among the confessors 
who gave their blood for the name of Christ. 
We have already related the glorious end of the 
virgin Potamiena, the sister by adoption of the 
noble Julia. 

At Carthage, where the interests of commerce 
and the frequent inroads of the savage tribes of 
the desert principally occupied the popular mind, 
there was less prejudice and less hatred of the 
Christians. It was a common saying, how- 
ever, that they had infallible charms to win 
over those whom they desired to attach to their 
religion ; they attributed the many conversions, 
which they could not otherwise explain, to the 
power of magic. This was the popular opinion, 
and it satisfied the masses. Upright and reflect- 
ing persons, however, did not allow themselves 


244 


The African Fabiola. 


to be deceived by sucli idle and frivolous reports. 
When they examined and became more intimate 
with the Christians, they could not help admiring 
and protecting them when necessary. The edict 
for the persecution might accordingly have lain, 
like its predecessors, in the archives of the state, 
had not the pagan priest’s pride been wounded. 
On what do not the most important events often 
depend % 

The day after his interview with Olympius, 
Jiibal, in the hope of obtaining the hand of 
Yivia, set to work with a zeal worthy of a better 
cause. At table, at play, in his evening or rather 
nightly revels, he never ceased to attack and in- 
veigh against the Christians. Being naturally 
clever, and commanding a wonderful flow of lan- 
guage, he constantly turned into ridicule their 
morals, manners, and customs. To the depraved 
society which he frequented he depicted the fol- 
lowers of Christ in the most odious colors ; he 
represented them as so many execrable monsters 
whose accursed race should be destroyed without 
delay and without mercy. 

“ Look at these hypocrites,” used he to say ; 
“ to give themselves the semblance of virtue they 
keep aloof from all social gatherings ; you never 
find them at the theatre, the games, or the pub- 
lic baths. They shut themselves up in their homes 
like bears in their dens ; when necessity happens 
to drive them forth you would know one of them 
among a thousand by their plainness of attire, the 


The Christians to the Lions. 245 

affected modesty of tlieir looks, and their studied 
soberness of gait. They despise us for knowing 
how to enjoy life without bothering ourselves 
about that mysterious and unknown future that 
never troubles people of good sense. In reality, 
they are no better than ourselves ; they have all 
our vices minus our frankness; they shroud 
themselves in mysteries and secrets, and they do 
well, for they ought to hide such a mass of tur- 
pitude and infamy ! 

“ Those men of so much external austerity and 
mortification are well known. In private among 
themselves they unblushingly give full scope to 
abominations that would horrify even us, al- 
though we do not pretend to be models of 
virtue. They affect to be very humane, to have a 
horror of blood, while in their nocturnal conven- 
ticles, when gorged with wine and meat, they 
slay a child and drink its blood.* In fact, the 
lions and tigers of our mountains are less cruel, 
and I do not see why we wage a war of ex- 
termination on those animals, who are ferocious 
only by instinct, while we tolerate men incompa- 
rably more savage. 

“ My friends, we have hitherto had pity for 
this impious sect, and saw it grow without alarm- 
ing ourselves; now, however, it threatens our 

* This was one of the calumnies forged from the doctrine 
of the Real Presence by the ignorance or malice of the ancient 
and pagan enemies of the Church. What a state of society 
does not this reveal J What must have been the position of 
the Christians ! Ex pede Herculem. 


246 


The African Fabiola. 


ease and our future. We shall soon be obliged 
to square our pleasures and pastimes according 
to tlieir notions of public propriety. The women, 
who love laughter and pleasure as well as we, 
leave us one by one, attracted no doubt by the 
novelty of the thing, and they take with them 
their fairest slaves. Let the contagion go on 
spreading a little while longer, and we shall be 
driven perforce to politics and philosophy, and 
must resign ourselves to v spend our days in dis- 
mal celibacy ; indeed, all our patrician ladies vie 
with one another in embracing the new religion, 
so that they now make it a point of honor to wed 
none but Christian husbands. After a while, if 
we wish to marry, we shall be obliged either to 
cringe and beg to be received into that hypocriti- 
cal sect, or to bestow our name on some plebeian 
or poor slave. What do you think of this ? what 
would our ancestors say were they to wake from 
the slumbers of the tomb ? 

“In my opinion,” he added, “it is high time 
to put an end to this growing evil. 

“You all know me. I do not care for the 
gods any more than ye do, but we must not per- 
mit ourselves to be robbed of what constitutes 
our happiness. Let us boldly stand up for our 
pleasant enjoyments ; they are about to be 
wrested from us. We are all in the full vigor of 
youth; we have power, gold, and slaves, and let 
us make the best use of them. Let us attack 
this new religion, then, by every means in our 


The Christians to the Lions. 247 

power ; let us assail its superstitions, and the im- 
pieties, the disorders, and the crimes that it 
teaches and practises. In the name of our only 
god, Pleasure, let us dethrone the false God 
called Christ. The undertaking is worthy of us. 

“ The opportunity is most favorable ; fortune 
evidently favors us. In a few days, as you are 
aware, Jarbas’s remains will arrive in Carthage, 
where they are making every preparation to re- 
ceive them with the utmost pomp and display. 
But there is something which perhaps you did 
not know : it is that Jarbas was secretly a Chris- 
tian. It was in hatred of that detested name 
tlfat the army revolted and he was stabbed. Let 
us all make joint protest against the decree of the 
senate ; let us boldly brand it as a disgraceful and 
infamous act. We can produce a perfect panic in 
the city. The Christians will soon crawl back to 
the obscurity whence we allowed them to emerge. 
Their wives and daughters, to-day so proud and 
haughty, will return to throw themselves into 
our arms. . . . War, then, to Christ! Glory 
and victory to sweet Pleasure ! ” 

Aided by lust and wine, Jubal’s words electri- 
fied the heads and hearts of the young men over 
whom he always had such influence. Goblet in 
hand, they swore hatred to Christ ; even some, 
more iihpulsive or more heated by wine, shouted 
the savage cry to which the Boman amphithe- 
atres so often re-echoed : “ The Christians to the 
lions ! ” 


248 


The African Fabiola. 


On liis side the old shepherd of the mountains 
was not idle. In his implacable hatred he had 
gone on blindly obeying the pagan high-priest. 
One thought occupied him day and night — to 
glut his vengeance, to shed the blood of the de- 
tested woman who had robbed him of his trea- 
sure, of his beloved Fatima. He used to go oc- 
casionally into the fields to visit the slaves at 
their toil. He pretended to pity them in order 
to gain their confidence, and when he thought 
them willing to listen, “Poor fellows ! ” used he 
to say, “ you toil for masters who have nothing but 
severity for you, while it only depends on your- 
selves to throw off their heavy yoke. Your 
proud oppressors are Christians either overtly or 
secretly ; in any case they are outlaws, and can 
have no rights over you. Denounce them to the 
magistrates, demand that they be punished ac- 
cording to. the wise edicts of the emperors, that 
they be exiled or condemned to death.* Freedom 
for yourselves, your wives, and children, together 
with a portion of the fertile lands you cultivate 
with your sweat, will be the reward of your cour- 
age. But let there be no delay, for your cruel 
masters know their danger and might provide 
against it. You are well aware from experience 
that they have but little scruple to make a vile 
slave die under the bloody whip and thong.” 

At other times he crawled slowly towards 
Vivia’s residence or seated himself on the pub- 
lic way. His emaciated limbs made him look 


The Christians to the Lions. 249 

like a skeleton, liis frowsy beard and hair, his 
livid and careworn countenance were calculated 
to produce the impression that he was one of those 
unfortunates whom the pagans imagined were 
pursued by the fates. When accosted or offered 
shelter he invariably refused assistance with the 
dolorous exclamation : u Interrupt not my grief ; 
what can any one do far a wretch condemned to 
suffer without consolation or hope ? ” And then 
the crowd was entertained by a repetition of the 
history of his grievances and woes. They never 
failed to win him sympathy, and the eyes of 
many a listening mother were moistened with 
tears for the loved and lost daughter of the sor- 
rowing old man. But when his hatred found 
vent in curses and imprecations on the Christians, 
and especially on Vivia, his impassioned cries for 
vengeance never failed to lash the crowd into 
fury and to draw forth a wild, unanimous shout 
of : “ Death to the Christians ! Deajth to Vi- 
via ! ” 

The pagan priest kept himself fully informed 
regarding the state of affairs throughout the city. 
He wrote Jubal the most flattering letters to en- 
courage him in the prosecution of the work he 
was so ably conducting. He was not equally 
well satisfied, however, with the proconsul. 
Firmilianus, the governor of the province of 
Carthage for a number of years, had never had 
any reason to find fault with the Christiaus. 
He was on intimate, nay, friendly terms with 


250 


The African Fabiola. 


many of them. Being naturally of a mild dis- 
position and, on principle, indifferent to matters 
pertaining to religion, he could not understand 
why people should be molested or persecuted sim- 
ply because they believe this or that doctrine. 
In common with the other governors, he had re- 
ceived the late imperial edict ; but, despite the 
murmurs of some pagan zealots, he was in no 
hurry to publish it. 

Had Firmilianus been a younger man, ambi- 
tious, the desire of pleasing Caesar, or the fear of 
losing his place might have induced him to act 
in contravention to his own inclinations and 
wishes ; but he was now advanced in years and 
tired of the honors that began to weigh upon 
him. His failing health was beginning to cry 
rather for retirement and rest from office. He 
had always led a quiet life and he wished to end 
it in peace. 

In vain did the malignant old priest urge him 
on ; nothing was gained by pleading the constantly 
increasing exasperation of the people, the evil con- 
sequences to the city of a popular outbreak, the 
intention entertained by a number of the senators 
of denouncing him to the emperor in case of a 
longer postponement of the publication and en- 
forcement of the edict against the Christians. The 
old man’s invariable answer was : “ The emperor 
is mistaken; the Christians are neither wicked nor 
dangerous.” Or again: “ At my age a man 
needs rest ; wait awhile. I am old and infirm ; 


The Christians to the Lions. 251 

when I am gone they may do as they like .’ 5 
But to wait was precisely what Olympius did 
not wish to do, hence he resolved to make the 
people speak, confident that their mighty and 
terrible voice could not be ignored or resisted. 

In the principal square of Carthage, situated 
at a short distance above the harbor, lying at her 
feet, there stood a white marble statue of Juno, 
the Queen of the Gods, and chief protectress of 
the city ; a costly diadem of precious stones was 
placed on her head, and sparkled with dazzling 
brilliancy in the sun’s rays. In her right hand 
she held a golden sceptre, as a symbol of her 
power ; in her left the model of a ship bearing 
the proud inscription, Carthage , Queen of the 
Sea. This statue had stood in its present posi- 
tion for centuries ; the Romans had respected it 
through fear, no doubt, of incurring the anger of 
the haughty and implacable goddess. The entire 
population held it in the greatest reverence. 
Previous to their departure for a campaign the 
soldiers were drawn up in line of battle, and in 
its presence the senate officially delivered the in- 
signia of command and the standard of the city 
to the general, charging him to return it unsul- 
lied and victorious. It was .customary also to 
place there votive offerings, crowns, necklaces, 
bracelets, etc. ; a bronze railing protected them 
from the rapacity of marauders and thieves. 
There was not a single pagan family in easy cir- 
cumstances who did not consider it a duty to 


252 


The African Fabiola. 


make some offering. At night an armed watch- 
man gnarded the sacred monument. 

Now it happened that one morning, at break 
of day, the watchman was found dead in a pool 
of blood ; he had been stabbed to the heart, and 
had fallen near the railing. All the votive offer- 
ings had been carried away, and the statue itself 
was terribly mutilated ; "its uncrowned head and 
right hand lay on the ground ; the golden sceptre 
was broken ; its scattered and battered fragments 
proved that the perpetrators of the deed were 
animated by a spirit of hatred and contempt. In 
a moment the great square was crowded by hor- 
rified spectators ; some raised their hands and 
eyes to heaven supplicating the Queen of the Gods 
not to be enraged against the city which she had 
always protected ; others fell prostrate on the 
ground to testify their abhorrence of the terrible 
and sacrilegious deed. Before long, however, it 
began to be circulated among the crowd, no one 
knew by whom, that “ it was the Christians 
that had been guilty of the sacrilege of breaking 
Juno's statue /” Indescribable rage took the place 
of consternation and terror ; an ominous and wild 
cry burst from every lip : “ Down with the Chris- 
tians ! the Christians to the lions ! ” For more 
than an hour all the echoes reverberated to that 
terrible shout ; in the privacy of his distant home 
Tertullian’s enemy heard it, and his heart bound- 
ed with fiendish satisfaction. 

All day long the city remained a prey to agita- 


The Christians to the Lions. 


253 


tion ; the streets, the squares, and the quays 
were filled with excited crowds. The great 
crime of the past night was the universal topic, 
and, as jt was universally taken for granted that 
the Christians were the criminals, the question 
was where would their rashness stop if not 
checked by swift and condign punishment. The 
more moderate, or, rather, to speak with more 
exactness, the less rabid, demanded that the 
guilty be arrested without delay and put to 
death. With a little diligence they could be 
easily discovered. Rumor unanimously singled 
out the names of some. Tertullian and Yivia had 
too many implacable enemies not to be at the 
head of the list ; hence it was currently reported 
that the one had advised and that the other, 
wholly led by his influence, had carried out his 
instructions. It was reported, furthermore, that 
the slave Revocatus had been seen during the 
night skulking on the way leading to the great 
square. There could be no question but he was 
the instrument employed by the patrician lady. 

The Christians could have no difficulty in un- 
derstanding the significance of this popular move- 
ment ; the shouts and cries for their death fell 
constantly on their ears. They retired to their 
houses to pray and to prepare themselves to give 
testimony for the faith of Jesus Christ, for they 
had no doubt that they were on the point of 
being dragged before the tribunal. Kneeling be- 
fore the altar and surrounded by some of his 


254 The African Fdbiola . 

priests, Optatus offered himself as a victim for 
his beloved flock, and besought God that his life 
might be taken for all. Clad in deep mourning 
and sorrow, jet calm in her grief, Vi via busied 
herself with her mother, Rufina, and Felicitas in 
making preparations for the funeral of her noble 
husband. In the silence of his humble abode, 
and heedless of what was passing abroad, Tertul- 
lian, with a genius knowing no repose and a soul 
above fear, was working at his celebrated treatise, 
“ Against the Gentiles,” and collecting the irre- 
sistible thunders destined to give the death-blow 
to idolatry. 

Right at last put a truce to the agitations of 
the day ; the crowds gradually dispersed, and 
people began to think of preparing for rest. The 
Christians began to hope ; even the good bishop 
returned home under the impression that his 
flock was no longer in danger. In a little while 
the whole city was hushed. It was like a sea 
after a storm, when the winds cea$e and the 
waves fall, and calm settles on the bosom of the 
deep. 

Suddenly an ominous reddish glow, accom- 
panied by murky volumes of smoke, appears. 
The fearful glare spreads clearer, broader, and 
higher ; it lights up the heavens and the harbor, 
and is reflected even by the distant waves of the 
sea. The temple is on fire; its lofty porticos, 
marvels of art, its stately marble pillars, splinter, 
totter, and fall one by one in thundering ruin to 


The Christians to the Lions. 


255 


the ground. The greedy flames envelop the 
whole building from the foundations to the 
dome, and could be seen for miles at sea. Soon 
the entire structure is but a shapeless mass of 
fire. Its destruction was as speedy as if it had 
been surrounded by pitch, sulphur, and the 
most inflammable materials. In the short space 
of a few hours there remained nothing of this 
costly and beautiful temple save a heap of black 
and half-calcined stones. 

The burning of this building having followed 
so closely on the sacrilegious mutilation of Juno’s 
statue, it became evident to the minds of all that 
there existed a plot and a set plan ; such coinci- 
dences do not spring from accident nor does it 
co-ordain facts in this manner. But who could 
have framed this plot and carried it out so skil- 
fully ? In the popular mind there was not even 
the shadow of a doubt — only the Christians 
would have been guilty of such a crime. Em- 
boldened by the impunity so long accorded to 
them, seeing their ranks increasing from day to 
day, and their numbers swelled by the most in- 
fluential citizens, they doubtlessly imagined they 
were now strong enough to be able to brave the 
terrors of the law and give full scope to their hat- 
red of the old religion and of all that it held most 
holy and sacred. Hence the people rushed to 
the fire with increased rage and bitterness, and 
as the crowd grew so did the shouts: Down 
with the Christians ! the Christians to the 


256 


The A fi ican Fabiola. 


lions! and every time a fragment of the tem- 
ple fell in the progress of the conflagration their 
savage yells grew louder and louder. The slaves 
and the rabble were particularly fierce ; they 
were on the point of attacking the houses of the 
Christians when the lieutenant-governor, or 
procurator of the province, appeared on the 
scene. His presence checked the movement, 
though not the shouting, nor could the mob 
be induced to disperse until they had been as- 
sured that severe and speedy punishment would 
be inflicted on the godless Christians. 



i 



CHAPTER XYII. 

HILARIAN AND -ANGELA. 

For a long time the attention of the emperor 
had been frequently called to the fact that Firmi- 
lianus, governor of the Carthagenian province, 
was too old and feeble to be the representative 
of mighty Rome in the metropolis of Africa, 
hence Severus, while leaving him the title which 
he possessed at the time of his own advent to the 
throne, had associated with him a young procu- * 
rator, a man firm, but ambitious, ready to do, or 
rather to stoop to anything for the sake of ambi- 
tion. To those masters of the world who bought 
the venal crown of the Caesars at the price of gold, 
treason, or murder, it was of prime necessity to 
surround themselves with unprincipled, cring- 
ing men, who would be swayed by ambition or 
avarice to support every whim of the prince 
on whom depended their future and advance- 
ment. 

The name of the above-mentioned procurator 
was Hilarian. Having been bred in the eamp, 
he had all the roughness and all the vices of the 
soldier of that time. As he was avaricious and 
257 . 



258 


The African Fabiola. 


a libertine, gold and pleasure were to be had no 
matter at wliat price. To satisfy his passions he 
shrunk from nothing, no matter however base or 
tyrannical it might be. He knew that Home had 
lost the right of questioning the uprightness of 
those whom she appointed to the government of 
her provinces, and also that she winked at their 
most crying exactions providing there were no 
rebellions, and that tlie usual tribute to the mo- 
ther country was duly paid. Woe to the wealthy 
who had occasion to bring a cause to his tribunal ! 
They had to pay dearly for the justice required 
at his hands ! 

Chance, if, indeed, it has anything to do with 
the affairs of men, so had it that, a few days pre- 
vious to the events just narrated, Hilarian met 
Angela with her parents, on her way to a meet- 
ing of the Christians. Struck by her modest air 
and beauty, he enquired who she was, what her 
condition, whether free or bond ; for the plainness 
and sober color of her attire did not permit him 
to imagine for a moment that she could belong 
to one of the wealthiest families in Carthage. 
Great, consequently, was his surprise when he 
learned that her parents had amassed a conside- 
rable fortune in trade, and that for many years 
their merchantmen were well known to every 
port on the shores of Greece, Italy, and Gaul. 
From the indagations made by one of his confi- 
dants, he found out that Angela, as well as her 
parents, were Christians, and that it was doubt- 


Hilar ian and Angela. 


259 


less for tliis reason she wore no rich or brilliant 
stuffs like other young ladies of her rank. 

So long as he had served in the Praetorian 
Guards, Hilarian shared in the popular prejudice 
regarding the Christians, considering them to be 
simply fanatics or hypocrites who, under the sem- 
blance of a mortified life, concealed the deepest 
corruption. But since he had been installed as 
colleague in the government of the province he 
had learned to know them better; he had dis- 
covered that their virtues were many and realv 
and their morals irreproachable. He was aware, 
therefore, that he should meet invincible resis- 
tance on the part of the young Christian if he 
resorted to the vulgar means of seduction ; but 
as in his bosom avarice vied with lust, after a 
little hesitancy he decided to ask for her hand ; 
he would thus become possessor of her immense 
fortune. But Angela was a Christian, and he 
who even now aimed at becoming the successor of 
the old and decrepit Firmilian-us could not marry 
a woman belonging to a religion proscribed by the 
laws of the empire. To attempt to persuade the 
young heiress to renounce Christ was, on the 
other hand, equally dangerous and futile. He 
had power, and he flattered himself he should 
succeed by means of intimidation and threats. 
It is evident he did not know the Christians very 
thoroughly as yet. 

Accordingly, on the day of the mutilation of 
Juno’s statue some soldiers repaired at noon to 


260 


The African Fabiola . 


the house of Angela’s father. Hilarian, thinking 
that this afforded him an excellent opportunity 
to further his plans, had commanded them to bring 
her quietly to his tribunal. The young virgin 
was at prayer, or rather in sweet ecstasy with 
her Beloved. She had been informed of the events 
of the past night, the clamors of the savage mob 
for the slaughter of the Christians, and, in the 
persuasion that this was the signal for a bloody 
persecution, she had lovingly offered herself to 
' Jesus Christ. She longed so ardently for mar- 
tyrdom that, yielding to her pious transports, 
she speedily fell into one of her usual ecstasies. 
Being recalled to consciousness by her mother’s 
voice, she no sooner heard that the procurator 
of the province summoned her to his tribunal 
than she exclaimed joyfully : “ The day so ar- 
dently longed for has come at last ; I am going 
to heaven to meet my Beloved and to love him 
for eternity.” After having sought the con- 
gratulations of her mother on her good fortune 
and happiness, she placed herself at the discre- 
tion of the soldiers, who had begun to grow im- 
patient at delay and to fear that she might have 
escaped by some secret passage. In spite of all 
her efforts to the contrary, her father could not 
be induced to let her go alone. 

Upon her arrival Hilarian was found seated on 
his tribunal, clad in the insignia of his office and 
surrounded by soldiers and lictors. He arose and 
said in his most winning tones : 


Hilarian and Angela. 261 

“ Angela, be not afraid, and look upon me 
rather as an indulgent friend than a severe 
judge.” 

“I fear nothing, my lord,” said the young 
virgin. “He who is with me is all-powerful ; I 
know He will not forsake me.” 

“ Of whom do you speak ? I cannot certainly 
suppose that it is of this old man, who, I pre- 
sume, is your father. Who, then, can this all- 
powerful protector be ? ” 

“ You know him not, but I know him. I see 
him ; He is here by my side ; He smiles on me 
'in love ; He bids me take courage.” 

The young Christian’s face shone with super- 
natural radiance, and her lips lisped loving and 
tender words, unintelligible to the procurator. 

“ Angela,” continued Hilarian, “let us not 
lose time in useless words. Strive rather to 
prove yourself worthy of the interest inspired in 
me by your youth, and frankly answer my ques- 
tions. Are the reports that have reached me 
true ? Can it be possible you are a Christian ? ” 

“You have not been misinformed. Yes, I 
serve Christ, and I will serve him to my latest 
breath.” 

“How could you have allowed yourself to be 
duped by this newfangled doctrine? What mo- 
tive can there be for abandoning the ancient creed 
of your fathers ? ” 

“Our religion is not new; it remounts 
through the prophets and patriarchs to the crea- 


262 


The African Fabiola. 


tion of the world. It was God himself that 
founded it. As for your religion, or rather your 
wicked system, it is the work of demons, and 
your gods are no gods.” 

“But the Christ whom you adore was con- 
demned to the shameful death of the cross on ac- 
count of his impostures and crimes ! This you 
are aware of ; how, then, can you hold him for 
your God?” 

“ I know that Christ, the eternal Son of God, 
died on a cross for my sake ; but he was holy 
and innocent. They who condemned him were 
blind and wicked. Oh ! had they but known 
the God of all goodness and love, they would 
not have crucified my Beloved ; they would have 
loved him as I love him.” 

“ It is you, Angela, who are blind. You are 
wealthy, and richly endowed with all the gifts of 
nature, and you join a religion that proscribes all 
pleasure and enjoyment. You hold yourself 
aloof from the world, where you may find all 
the amusements suitable to your age and the 
homage due to your birth and beauty.” 

“We have pleasures purer than yours, enjoy- 
ment infinitely greater than any you can boast 
of; but they must be tasted to be appreciated. 
In my retirement I am not solitary, as you ima- 
gine. There is 6Wwith me that holds the place 
of all. He is my happiness and my life ; he fills 
my whole heart. I feel that he is all mine and I 
am all his.” 


Hilarian and Angela . 263 

“ I cannot understand your strange language. 
Our emperors have proscribed your religion, as 
you are aware ; their will is that our gods be 
reverenced and honored throughout the whole 
empire.” 

“I am Christ’s hand-maid; I will never adore 
your gods.” 

“ Angela, I have compassion for you on account 
of your youth ; I am resolved to show mercy to 
you in spite of yourself. Be saved by me, and 
renounce all those miserable superstitions; cast 
off those lugubrious garments, so unbecoming to 
one of your rank and fortune. The entire city 
will honor you as you deserve, and a befitting 
marriage will soon be the reward of your wis- 
dom.” 

“ These garments I prize because I received 
them from Him ; I would not exchange them for 
the costliest silks and purple. Why speak to me 
of honors ? All my glory consists in despising 
them. As for your vaunted espousals, what are 
they in comparison to those to which my heart 
has ever aspired ? ” 

Hilarian felt himself worsted by the young 
Christian ; her mild and modest answers attested 
her calmness and firmness alike; but as she 
seemed not to have understood the sufficiently 
clear allusion made by him to his own wishes, on 
the score of a befitting marriage as the reward of 
her abjuration, he judged it necessary to come to 
the point openly and plainly. 


264 


Tice A fi ican Fabiola. 


u Angela,” said lie, “ listen attentively to 
what I going to say ; the law empowers me 
to treat you with severity. The occurrences of 
the past night can be laid to the charge of the 
ungodly members of your sect alone, and they 
make it incumbent on me to have recourse to 
stringent measures. I had resolved and I still 
am determined to save you. It depends on 
yourself to profit by my clemency ; I stipulate 
one condition, however. The very first time I 
saw you I felt irresistibly drawn toward you. I 
vowed to exalt you to my own height and to 
bestow my name on you ; but it is necessary that 
the wife of the procurator ITilarian be of the 
same religion as himself. This is the price of 
your safety.” 

The young virgin cast her eyes on the ground ; 
a holy modesty suffused her face with deep 
blushes, but she uttered not a word. 

“It is well,” exclaimed Hilarian, interpreting 
her virgin blushes and modest silence as a tacit 
sign of consent ; “ I am delighted to find you so 
reasonable.” 

Descending from the tribunal, he attempted to 
kiss her hand, but before his lips could touch it 
she recoiled and said with calmness and dignity : 

“My lord, if the laws make it your duty to 
condemn me as a Christian, although I have 
done no evil, behold I am ready ; my every as- 
piration is to suffer and die for Him who has suf- 
fered and died for me. I beg, however, that 


Hilarian and Angela. 265 

yon will do me the favor of not even requiring an 
answer to the extraordinary proposition j ust made.” 

“Then you despise me, Angela? Whence, 
let me ask, so much haughtiness and pride ? ” 

“ I despise no one ; you are come too late ; an- 
other has forestalled you, and I have given him 
my heart.” 

“ Ah ! here is a true specimen of Christian 
hypocrisy ! So, Angela, under the semblance of 
straitlaced modesty, you, too, hide an intrigue. 
Then you are in love ? ” 

“ Yes, I have long loved my dear Betroth - 

ear 

“ No matter what be his name, were he the 
most influential man in Carthage, I swear to you 
he shall never have you.” 

“ My Beloved is beyond your power ; your 
rage can never reach him. To him have I given 
my troth and all the love of my heart ; to him 
shall I ever remain faithful.” 

“Now you add insult to contempt ; this is 
more than enough ! 1 ask now, and for the last 

time, will you consent to become the wife of Hi- 
larian ? ” 

“ I neither will nor can ; ask me no more ques- 
tions.” 

“ Angela, you wish to deceive, to impose upon 
me ; you are still free.” 

“ I am not, you may rest assured.” 

“ Since when ? No one ever heard of your 
having been betrothed or married.” 


266 The African FaMola. 

“ Only a few days ago He whom I have loved 
since I was a child has solemnly taken me for his 
spouse. It was of him I spoke when I told you 
that all your power and anger could not reach 
him.” 

“ Angela, either you are mocking me to your 
grief, or else you are laboring under some hallu- 
cination. ” 

“ Were you a Christian you could understand, 
perhaps. But why so many questions ? I repeat, 
I am a Christian, and I will never have any 
spouse other than Him to whom I have plighted 
my troth and my love.” 

Under the belief that her firmness came prin- 
cipally from her father’s presence, Hilarian com- 
manded him to be led from the court. Angela, 
however, gave no sign of alarm or perturbation. 

“ Fear not,” said she to the old man ; “ He who 
is with me will sustain me to the end.” 

“We shall see that,” cried Hilarian in a men- 
acing and angry tone. “ Demented woman, do 
not persist in your folly ; renounce your impious 
creed, consent to become my wife, or I shall con- 
fiscate to the public treasury ” (he dared not say 
to his own) “ all the wealth of your family, so 
that you and yours shall be reduced to beggary.” 

“It is written : Blessed are the poor, for theirs 
is the kingdom of heaven. He whom 1 adore, 
he- whom I love, lived in poverty, having not 
even where to lay his wearied head. You may 
deprive us of the goods which we value not, and 


Hilarian and Angela. 267 

which we must leave sooner or later. We have 
treasures a thousandfold more valuable, but these 
you cannot take away.” 

At the word treasures the passion of avarice 
awoke in the procurator’s heart, and his eyes lit 
up with the fire of covetousness. 

“ Where do you keep these stores of wealth ? ” 
cried he. 

“ In heaven ! it is there we daily lay them 
up.” 

“ If you fear not poverty, at least fear exile, or 
a still worse fate. I can make you a slave, An- 
gela, and you had better reflect upon this seri- 
ously.” 

“ The whole world is the Christian’s fatherland ; 
he is free even in chains.” 

“ The haughty tone you now assume may belie 
itself when tested by the horrors and loneliness 
of a dungeon. You will there regret the pleas- 
ing companionship of your friends and the light 
of yon fair sun.” 

“You are mistaken, for even in your dun- 
geons I shall not be alone. He will come down 
and will remain with me. His sweet words will 
flood my soul with joy, his light will dissipate 
the darksomeness of my prison.” 

Galled as well as humiliated, Hilarian ordered 
the instruments of torture to be brought forth in 
the hope of intimidating the young virgin. His 
intention, however, was not to torture her, but 
to see what effect the sight of them would pro- 


268 


The African Fabiola. 


duce upon her. Angela looked at them fearless- 
ly for an instant and then raised her eyes to 
heaven, as if to say : “ Be thou blessed, O Beloved 
of my heart ! it has been given to me at last to 
have some part in thy sufferings, after having 
so long sighed for this happiness ! ” 

“ You see these terrible instruments,” said the 
procurator ; “ they wring groans and cries of pain 
from the stoutest. Do not wait to have your 
limbs torn and to see your delicate body bleeding 
from every pore; obey.” 

“ He who is with me will enable me to suffer 
courageously for his sake.” 

The torturers advanced to seize and lay her on 
the rack. Accustomed as they were to such har- 
rowing scenes, they could not help a feeling of 
involuntary pity. An imperious gesture from 
Hilarian made them pause, and, turning towards 
Angela, who was calmly praying to God : 

“ Your insolence and obstinacy,” said he, “ de- 
serve the severest punishment. Nevertheless, I 
still entertain a hope that you will have pity on 
yourself and on your aged parents. Plunge them 
not into inconsolable sorrow, and ruin not your- 
self. Angela, I give you until to-morrow to 
make up your mind. Think of yourself and of all 
that you hold dear ; remember the happy and 
honorable life that lies before you if you hearken 
to the voice of reason. If, however, at this hour 
to-morrow, you will not sacrifice to the gods and 
become my wife, I swear by our divine empe- 


Hilarian and Angela . 269 

ror that I will cast you to the wild beasts in the 
amphitheatre, after having first caused you to be 
dishonored. We shall then see if your Christ, or 
this mysterious protector that you have so often 
cast in my teeth, shall be able to save your body 
from dishonor and the bloody fangs of the lions.” 

A ray of heavenly joy beamed in the eyes of 
the young Christian when Hilarian spoke of ex- 
posing her to the wild beasts, but. at the mention 
of the other threat the chaste virgin grew sudden- 
ly pale; her limbs trembled and tears gushed 
from eyes half closed by an instinctive movement 
of shame. Her modesty became so alarmed, she 
felt such a fearful revulsion of feeling, that she 
had to lean on the back of a seat to keep from 
falling. The procurator felt overjoyed ; he con- 
gratulated himself at having struck on, or rather 
at having borrowed, such a happy idea from the 
olden persecutors of the Christians ; he was satis- 
fied he had triumphed over all her reluctance and 
opposition. But his joy was short-lived ; the 
youthful virgin had seen and heard her Belov - 
ed. Her countenance became once more smiling 
and radiant. 

a Until to-morrow, then,” said she. “ He who 
is with me will be able to protect me. Oh ! the 
fair, the glad day when I shall go to him to be- 
gin my eternal espousals ! ” 

Accompanied by her father, who had awaited 
her at the door of the protorium, she sped home 
to allay the fears of her anxious and weeping 


270 


The African Fabiola. 


mother. After having affectionately embraced 
her, she related all that had passed between 
Hilarian and herself, as well as the threats made 
by him in his private interview. When she 
mentioned the menace of dishonor previous to 
being exposed to the wild beasts, she shook and 
trembled from head to foot, even though she as- 
sured her parents that her Divine Spouse would 
save her from that shame and indignity. “ He 
promised it to me,” she said, “and I believe in 
his promise ; my heart’s only Beloved knows I 
fear not torture and death, and that 1 have long 
and ardently desired to suffer and die for him . 
But he will never permit his spouse to suffer 
such a disgrace ; I am confident he will not ; I 
know not how he will save me from it, nor have 
I asked him. He has informed me that I shall 
reach his foot-stool to-morrow white as the lily 
of the valley, pure and spotless as the sainted 
Potamiena, whose virginity he preserved and 
protected.” 

In those times of living faith fathers and mo- 
thers were not driven to despair when God de- 
manded a martyr out of the family ; they accom- 
panied him to the tribunal, and exhorted him to 
confess boldly the name of Jesus Christ ; in pri- 
son they visited him and respectfully kissed his 
chains and wounds. On the way to the place of 
execution they walked by his side, recommended 
themselves to his prayers, and pointed to that 
heaven whether he was going to be crowned by 


Hilarian and Angela. 271 

God’s own hand. The father, suppressing his 
sighs, smiled on his son, and, if he complained, 
it was only because he was not allowed to share 
in his child’s glory and happiness. Triumphing 
oyer the human heart, even the mother re- 
strained her tears. Happy and proud of the 
glorious confession of her daughter, she sought 
to assist at her final combat, or rather at her final 
triumph. When death had done its work on the 
body of the youthful martyr, she descended into 
the arena, and on her knees collected his blood 
with a sponge or veil ; with her own hands she 
bore the sacred remains to the family tomb, 
whenever the executioners did not deprive her 
of them by casting them into the fire or scatter- 
ing the ashes to the winds. 

Moreover, Angela’s parents, being encouraged 
by the holy exhortations of their daughter, thought 
of nothing but of offering to the Lord his own 
chosen victim. They never dreamed of saving her 
by flight from Ililarian’s sentence; and had the 
thought presented itself they would have re- 
jected it through fear of causing a general per- 
secution of the Carthagenian Christians, or of 
seeming to refuse to Almighty God a victim so 
pure, a virgin so undefiled, a spouse so tender and 
loving, and who had but one aspiration — to unite 
herself to her Beloved inseparably and for ever. 
Towards evening they sent a secret message to 
inform the bishop of what was taking place. 
The saintly prelate hastened to visit the young 


272 


The African FaMola. 


Christian, to fortify her for the combat. Having 
provided himself with the holy mysteries, Angela 
obtained his blessing and the sweet consolation 
of receiving for the last time Him who constb 
tuted all her happiness, her only Love, and whom 
on the morrow she was destined to contemplate 
face to face in heaven. 




\ 




CHAPTER XVIII. 

TERTULLIAN BEFORE THE SENATE. 

Hate had but too well inspired the soul of the 
pagan high-priest. While Jubal, the blind instru- 
ment of his will from the time of his having con- 
ceived a passion for Vivia, kept the people excited 
by fiery harangues against the Christians, the old 
mountain shepherd, Sylvanus, following the in- 
structions of the haughty and vindictive pontiff, 
had broken the statue and fired the temple of 
Juno. Slaves hired for the purpose had aided 
him in the accomplishment of the hellish deed. 
We have alreadj^ seen the effect produced on 
the masses by this double sacrilege. 

Even the senate became excited and its delibe- 
rations stormy. The very leniency shown to the 
Christians in the past now became a reason why 
they should be summarily and severely dealt 
with. The majesty of the gods had been 
publicly outraged ; such a crime demanded so- 
lemn reparation ; the profanation should be expi- 
ated by the blood of the guilty in order to appease 
the just anger of the goddess. Even the venera- 
273 



274 


The African Fabiola. 


ble members of the senate trembled in their curule 
chairs ; the whole city looked as if a hostile army 
was at the gates ready to slaughter all the inhabi- 
tants unless every man rushed to arms to repel 
the assault. 

The senate had been in session two hours. 
Hitherto the rostrum had been accustomed to 
calm debate, and, even when earnest and impas- 
sioned language had been used, due regard to 
decorum and dignity had always been observed ; 
now, however, it thundered with mad invectives 
and atrocious calumnies against the Christians. 
According to some fanatical young declaimers, 
the followers of the new religion, ungratefully 
abusing the liberty accorded to them, plotted 
against the state in the very face of day. Being 
the enemies of the gods and the emperors, they 
aimed at nothing less than the overthrow of the 
government, the destruction of the senate, the 
corruption of the army, the exile of the wealthy, 
and the blockading of the city to foreign com- 
merce. It was high time, therefore, to thwart 
their nefarious plans. Besides, had not the gods 
spoken by the voice of the people? Death to the 
Christians ! the Christians to the lions ! 

“ The Christians to the lions ! What is their 
crime ? ” 

The words rang out in tones deep and loud as 
thunder. The audience trembled as if the an- 
cient vault had been suddenly rent and was about 
to fall crashing upon their heads. The speakers 


Terlullian "before the Senate. 275 

in the rostrum were struck dumb, and for an in- 
stant the senators gazed at one another with 
evident signs of terror ; they had not yet realized 
the man who had thus suddenly interrupted their 
deliberations. 

Without giving them time to recover from 
their astonishment, Tertullian — for it was he — 
flinging back his cloak and casting on the assem- 
bly that peculiar glance of his, so expressive of 
lofty genius, had ascended the steps of the hemi- 
cycle with flashing eye, raised head, and heaving 
breast. To those who knew him it was evident 
that a very flood of ideas filled his bosom ; that 
an irresistible storm of eloquent vehemence was 
about to burst forth. * 

“ The Christians to the lions ! ” began he. 
“ Upon hearing this savage cry as I entered this 
assembly, I might well imagine I was in a Roman 
amphitheatre, in the midst of a mob drunk with 
fury, thirsting for blood, and impatiently waiting 
for the wild beasts to tear in pieces a few old 
men or young women for adoring Christ, the 
only true and living God ! And it is in a senate- 
chamber where I see congregated noble and wise 
patricians, the glory and light of this city, that 
these savage shouts are heard ! What, then, 
has become of that honor and justice on which 
you so prided yourselves until now % 

“ The Christians to the lions ! Of what so great 

* In this and the following chapter we do little else than 
give a synopsis of Tertullian’s celebrated Apologeticus. 


276 


The African Fabiola. 

and so odious a crime can they have become guilty 
to be thus summarily condemned to a punishment 
from which ordinary humanity spares the vilest 
slave ? Is it the name alone you persecute with 
such unflinching rigor ? But why should a name 
in itself so harmless, and which simply implies that 
those who bear it are the disciplies of Christ, ex- 
cite more odium than that of Platonist or Pitha- 
gorean, which no one has ever dreamed of calling 
a crime in the case of the disciples of Plato or 
Pythagoras ? Here is a man who is confessedly 
a good husband, an upright, law-abiding citizen, 
honest, peaceable, and charitable to all ; simply be- 
cause he calls himself a Christian, does the very 
name, forsooth, render him unworthy to live? 
A modest, mild, chaste woman, the honor 
and the model of her sex, is a Christian, and for 
this is she deserving of death ? What is there so 
evilly ominous and criminal in the name of Chris- 
tian that it must needs be proscribed and wiped 
out with torrents of blood ? When and where 
has a name ever before provoked such deadly op- 
position ? Is not this the height of injustice and 
madness ? 

“ The Christians to the lions ! Their name 
comes from Christ, whose stupendous sanctity 
even Tiberius so far recognized as to wish to 
dedicate altars to him, forbidding under the 
severest penalties the molestation of his disciples; 
these lived in harmony and peace under the pro- 
tection of the laws of the empire. The first to 


Tertullian before the Senate. 277 


draw the sword against us was Nero, the enemy 
of every thing great, noble, and pure. But the 
condemnation of such a man, or rather of such a 
monster, is our justification, his hatred is our 
glory, and the best proof of our innocence in the 
eyes of the whole world. Of all the wise and 
good princes who sat on the throne of the Caesars, 
not one sided with our enemies against us. Mar- 
cus Aurelius publicly returned thanks to the 
Christians for having, by their prayers, saved the 
Roman army from the Quades and Marcomans in 
Germany ; he did more — he made it a capital 
crime for any man to prosecute them on the sole 
score of religion. 

“ The Christians to the lions! But before 
making them the food of the wild beasts kept in 
your amphitheatres, have you given them a hear- 
ing ? Have you examined them juridically? 
Have you, as justice demands, afforded them the 
power and the means of defending themselves ? 
If a person be accused of murder, arson, or parri- 
cide, does -your lictor’s axe smite him before he is 
examined and tried ? Before you condemn the 
blackest villain, you demand the proofs of his 
crime, you admit the testimony of witnesses, you 
allow the accused to say openly whatever he may 
deem useful to his cause ; he can summon to his 
aid the assistance even of learning and oratory. 
Nor is this considered a favor ; it is only justice ; 
meantime the barbarous laws that you invoke 
against us deprive us of all that is granted to or- 


278 


The African Fahiola. 


dinary criminals. Because we are Christians all 
legal procedure is set aside in our case ; we are 
neither citizens nor men, and hence other penal- 
ties, other executioners, are here necessary, and 
so our case is referred to lions and tigers, the 
worthy enforcers of such justice ! This is a 
novel sort of legislation that you now wish 
to introduce against us, and how subversive 
of all received rules of procedure ! Let the ac- 
cused deny the crime laid to his charge, let him 
protest before the judge that he is not a thief or 
a murderer, he is not discharged on the simple 
plea of his not pleading guilty, but, after having 
exhausted all the ordinary means of conviction, if 
all doubt be not removed from your minds, you 
order him to be put to the torture, to wring from 
his lips the avowal which was held back through 
shame or the fear of death. In our case it is 
just the reverse ; if I am summoned to one of 
your tribunals for being a Christian, I need only 
say that I am not one and I am discharged ; 
the law requires nothing more of me, and in 
case I am so disposed, I can drop manacles to 
don honors. On the contrary, if I refuse to 
dislioner myself by a lie, and I persist in de- 
claring myself to be a Christian, I am sub- 
jected to tortures the most barbarous and un- 
heard-of to compel me to say I am not what 
I really am. But if my being a Christian 
makes me deserving of death, why should I bo 
discharged on the strength of a simple denial 


Tertullian before the Senate. 


279 


that would be futile in any other suit ? or why 
employ such violence to compel me^to say I am 
not guilty of what you deem so heinous a crime ? 
It is plain, therefore, that such a method of pro- 
cedure is palpably absurd. Why do you not 
adopt what would be a better plan, and write as 
a heading over your new laws : ‘ It is forbidden, 
under penalty of death, not to be, but to style 
and declare one’s self, a Christian ? ’ You would 
at least have the merit of frankness. 

“ The Christians to the lions ! But why do 
they deserve to be so hated, so abominated ? We 
live among you ; our houses are as open as yours, 
you may enter them at any hour of the day, for, 
having nothing to hide, we fear not the most in- 
quisitive eyes. Our homes, as you are well 
aware, never re-echo to effeminate or voluptuous 
strains ; there silence is broken only by prayer 
and hymns to the God who created the universe. 
We abominate all debaucheries, all that may flat- 
ter and foment the passions. We interdict all * 
banqueting and feasting, where pride and sensua- 
lity so often and so gayly squander the patrimony 
of the needy and the orphan. Our meals are 
frugal ; the beggar or the stranger never solicits 
in vain his share of the homely fare that satisfies 
our appetites and wants. Honorable magistrates, 
consult your archives, send or go yourselves to 
the grim prisons where lie in chains those who 
dared to insult the majesty of the law, who steep- 
ed their hands in blood, who brought disgrace 


280 The African Fabiola. 

and dishonor on their families, the parricides who 
clutched through crime at their paternal inheri- 
tance, the unnatural mothers who murdered their 
sin-begotten offspring, the turbulent or thieving 
slaves — among all these off-scourings of society 
you will not find a single Christian ; ours keep 
themselves free from all crimes. 

“ Do we not live in submission to the laws ? Is 
it among us that the spirit of revolt revolves san- 
guinary projects, thus paving the way for the 
dismemberment and ruin of the empire ? We 
pay punctually and without complaining our 
share of the public taxes. Being lovers of peace, 
which we consider a precious boon from God, we 
nevertheless do not refuse to bear arms whenever 
our country calls us to her defence ; our soldiers 
fight by the side of yours, and the enemy finds 
them no less brave or intrepid. The country has 
no better citizens nor, the Caesars more faithful 
and reliable subjects ; you are well aware that it 
is^not the Christian soldiers who dethrone and 
murder those whom they previously helped to 
nominate for the crown, nor are they of those 
who sell to the highest bidder the dishonored 
diadem of our emperors. 

tc As for our morals, they are pure and irre- 
proachable; we abhor the very semblance of vice, 
and everything that trenches on immorality is 
banished from among us ; chastity is the govern- 
ing principle of our matrimonial alliances and 
guards them against other affections. Our young 


Tertullia7i before the Senate. 


281 


men are conspicuous for uprightness of cha- 
racter ; from infancy they are trained in the 
school of virtue. Our daughters are modest and 
reserved; they retain unsullied the candor of 
childhood under the ever vigilant eye and shield- 
ing hand of their chaste mothers. In order to 
find time for prayer and contemplation many of 
us lead a life of perfect continence ; death may 
find them old in years but children in innocence. 
We prize purity so much and honor it so far that 
we halt not even at the limits laid down by duty 
and precept. 

“ Ignoring your gods as we do, it follows as a 
consequence that we keep aloof from your tem- 
ples. We have a horror of the abominations 
committed in them under the cloak of religion ; 
these abominations are such that my tongue re- 
fuses to name • them, and their very thought 
makes me blush for shame. Neither do we take 
part in your games, because, in the majority of 
cases, to do so would entail the loss of modesty 
and virtue. We shun your theatres, because they 
are the public school of every vice and obscenity. 
While you, victims qf a shameful and insatiable 
passion, go thither and sacrifice the honor of your 
wives and daughters, we shut ourselves up in the 
privacy of our homes to pray or to read the law 
• pure and undefiled of our God, in order to render 
ourselves still more holy and pure. 

“ Magistrates, I appeal to yourselves ; will 
you refuse to accept your own testimony ? ‘ Be- 


282 


The African Fabiola. 


hold,’ say you every day, * here is a man whose 
excesses were known to the entire city ! Since 
he became a Christian his life has been regular, 
his habits exemplary.’ ‘This youth, heretofore 
the leading spirit in every licentious gathering, 
the first in every mad frolic and debauchery, by 
becoming a Christian he has become another 
man ; his deportment, his conversation, his whole 
life has become redolent of modesty and de- 
cency.’ 4 This woman, who had been so reck- 
less of her reputation as a wife, of her duties as 
a mother, from the moment she embraced the 
new religion she has led a life of strict seclusion ; 
the world now seeks for her in vain at its festivi- 
ties ; she eschews all its pleasures in willing pun- 
ishment for incense and enjoyments so sought 
after in the past.’ It is thus that truth forces 
even yourselves to proclaim the purity and holi- 
ness of our morals. 

“ I am aware that blind hatred lays to our 
charge the most awful crimes. This is done in 
Borne and it is done in Carthage ; these reports 
have been spread to the ends of the world, and, 
as usual, the calumny goes on increasing from 
day to day. It is said that in our assemblies we 
deliberately butcher an infant torn from its mo 
ther’s bosom ; that we greedily devour its flesh 
and sleep our lips in its still warm blood ; that 
after this horrible feast is over dogs trained for 
the purpose upset the lights, and that, under 
this opportune darkness, we indulge in the most 


Tertullian before the Senate. 283 


diabolical and unnatural deeds. Through a sense 
of shame and respect for you I would fain pass 
over this imputation in silence, but the demands 
of our cause compel me to ventilate it. 

“ That we have our meetings I do not deny, 
nor that we strictly refuse access to the profane 
— by this we designate those who belong not to 
us — they alone can be present who have been in- 
itiated after long and severe tests. How, then, 
and through whom can you be informed of what 
takes place in them ? Let me ask has any one 
here witnessed it ? If so let him arise, let him 
speak and say what his privileged eye saw and 
ear heard on a subject about which the public 
speaks with so much assurance. At least let the 
deserter be named who could and did divulge 
those secrets of blood and infamy upon his own 
personal knowledge and experience ! Why skulk 
in the dark ? Such a man would be a benefactor 
to heaven and earth if he could convict us, and 
put an end, by clear and public proof, to crimes 
which must interest, because they disgrace, our 
human nature. 

“ The youngest infant must utter cries upon 
being put to death in such a barbarous manner ; 
these cries ought to be heard outside, and should 
find an echo in the breast of every mother. 
What woman can say she has trembled at such 
heart-rending cries? Death invariably leaves 
some remnants of its victims ; blood leaves some 
accusing marks ! But who has ever seen any? 


284 


Tlie African Fabiola. 


Who Leas ever gathered and preserved them for a 
proof of the crime ? A child cannot disappear 
without the family noticing the loss of one of its 
members. Where are the mourners for a child 
taken by its mother in the evening to one of our 
assemblies and never again brought back to the 
paternal roof ? But to drink and relish the blood 
of these tender and innocent little ones! You 
cannot be aware of the fact that w^e are forbid- 
den by our law to eat the blood of animals or the 
flesh of anything strangled ? Noble senators, the 
wives and daughters of many of you are Chris- 
tians and are instructed in our mysteries. Arise 
and say whether, upon their return from our as- 
semblies, you have detected the odor of this pal- 
pitating flesh, or found traces of this foaming 
blood upon their lips ! Tell us if you have even 
seen anything in them to cause you to suspect 
aught of all these horrible excesses which are so 
calumniously laid to our charge ! 

“You have a soul and a heart! Well, then, 
permit me to invite you to bury your knife in the 
breast of this infant, who is incapable of even 
producing hatred in your bosom ; tear it in pieces 
with your hands in order to partake of it ; care- 
fully collect every drop of its blood ; dip your 
bread into and eat it ; but as you eat note well 
where your mother or sister is seated ! Sena- 
tors, you shudder with horror at the bare thought. 
I flatter myself I know why ; it is because you 
are men ! But we are men as well ; our nature 


Tertullian 'before the Senate . 


285 


is not different from jours ! How, then, could we 
do what you would be incapable of doing even if 
you had the will ? 

“Spurn, then, for ever this calumny, out of 
which hate makes capital with such incredible 
persistency in order to draw upon us the fury of 
the mob. Let us be informed once for all what 
is our crime, why those cries for our blood which 
so plainly harbinger the deadly scenes that are 
about to disgrace your city ? As for us, we live 
at peace with those outside as well as with our 
brethren. We do evil to none; if we are insult- 
ed we remain silent ; if we are plundered, we 
complain not ; we make no applications to your 
tribunals for redress nor for the restoration of 
what has been unjustly wrested from us. If we 
are hated, if we are reviled, we cordially pardon 
and repay good for the evil received. We have 
enemies because people persist in being so, while 
we give offense to none ; meantime we pray for 
them and cease not to love them. This is the 
Christians’ revenge. Display and luxury being 
interdicted to us, our wants are few, and hence we 
give the superfluous to the poor, to whom it right- 
fully belongs. With our gold we purchase liberty 
for the captive and the slave and a home for the 
wanderer and the houseless ; we bestow especial 
care on the aged, the orphans, and the sick ; we 
refuse not food and raiment to those whom you 
so heartlessly abandon to misery and want. In- 
deed, our charity is so well known to you that 


286 


The African Fabiola. 


you yourselves say commonly : See the Christians 
how they love one another ; their own poor are 
not enough for them ; to our shame , they sup- 
port ours also. 

“ In order to compass our destruction it would 
seem as if every means were good, and even lying 
against us. were praiseworthy. Because our reli- 
gion forbids us to sacrifice to the emperors, who 
are only mortals like ourselves, and although, by 
reason of the power given them by God, we regard 
them as secondary majesties , we are branded as 
their enemies. Although it is a notorious fact 
that we never enter into conspiracies or revolts, no 
matter, a pretext must be trumped up to deprive 
us of the protection of the laws ; it has been found, 
and people cling to it persistently. I shall not 
repeat what I have said regarding our loyalty 
to the emperors. Our instructors in the faith 
have taught us to pray daily for them. While, 
through flattery or fear, you coldly offer vows to 
your deaf and powerless gods, or deluge your 
temples with the unavailing blood of oxen and 
sheep, we, with eyes raised to heaven, with hands 
uplifted, because pure, with bared heads, because 
we have nothing to be ashamed of, we supplicate 
the only true and omnipotent God to grant the 
Caesars a long life, a peaceful reign, security in 
their palaces, courage for their legions, wisdom 
and justice for the senate, virtue for the people, 
and peace for the whole empire. We alone can 
obtain from him all these favors, because we alone 


Tertullian before the Senate. 287 


adore him, because we are ready to lay down our 
lives for his law, because we offer him the most 
pleasing of all sacrifices — prayers emanating from 
a chaste body, a spotless soul, and a pure heart 
animated by the Holy Ghost. We enemies of 
the emperors ! Ah ! may they never have any 
other ! The sceptre shall never more tremble in 
their hands, nor the crown on their heads ; they 
shall no longer have to fear the secret plots nor 
sanguinary revolts that daily threaten their lives. 

“ It is asserted that our religion is new. Yes, 
in Rome and in Carthage I grant. But in Asia, 
the cradle of the human race, it remounts to the 
remotest antiquity; it reckons more than fifty 
centuries, and its birth is coeval with that of the 
world. The religion that, in your opinion, has 
but just been established was taught by God to 
the first man. Christ, from whom it derives its 
present name, only confirmed, consecrated, and 
raised it to its full perfection. But even were 
it a new religion, would that be a sufficient reason 
to proscribe it without examination ? Has not 
everything in this world had its beginning — laws, 
institutions, empires, and kingdoms ? Is your 
own religion eternal ? do we not know the very 
day when lies began to contend for the mastery 
against the eternal truth held by us ? 

“ Before condemning us, justice would demand 
that you know us thoroughly ; it is absolutely 
unjust to hate what you do not know, as well as 
to blaspheme what you do not understand. Then 


288 


The African Fabiola. 


what do you when you curse and clamor for our 
death for the reason that we are Christians? 
Through blind hatred and groundless prejudice, 
you assail people whom you cannot call guilty, 
from the fact that you do not know them. But 
take heed, this ignorance will bear witness, and 
plead against you ; it will convict you before the 
tribunal of reason and conscience, and, from age 
to age, will tell to unborn generations that the 
senate of the second greatest city in the world 
proscribed thousands of men, women, and chil- 
dren, that it did this through prejudice , and for 
the sole reason that they went by a name the 
meaning of which that senate did not understand. 
Noble magistrates, before you stigmatize and 
fulminate that name by your contempt and might, 
learn its import as I have done. Think not that 
I ask any favors for that religion ; no, persecution 
can neither dismay nor terrify it ; it knows that 
it is destined to find enemies in the world ; being 
the offspring of heaven, its hope, glory, rest, and 
throne are in heaven. The least you can do is 
to examine it ; it fears not the light ; being confi- 
dent of victory, it simply demands that it be not 
judged and condemned without a hearing. The 
justice denied by an infuriated mob you will not 
refuse ; here, and in your presence at least, I am 
persuaded its voice shall not be drowned by the 
mad cries that only a few moments ago I had the 
mortification of hearing. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

THE TWO RELIGIONS. 

“ You deplore the fact that the number of the 
Christians is constantly increasing ; the city, say 
you, is becoming filled with them ; they are 
everywhere — in the rural districts, in the forti- 
fied places, in the island as on the mainland | and 
you say the truth. Men and women, the young 
and the old, the great, the rich, the poor, and the 
needy alike are leaving you in crowds and open- 
ly coming over to us. We are but of yesterday, 
and yet we fill every place— cities, castles, towns, 
councils, camps, tribes, companies, armies, the 
palace, the senate, and the forum. Your tem- 
ples alone have escaped this invasion ; they are 
the only places we leave you, and you are at no 
loss to ascertain the reason. At Rome and in the 
provinces, where persecution has been essayed, 
the sword, the axe, fire, water, the cross, the 
mines, everything has been put into requisition ; 
thousands have been slaughtered ; the innocence 
of childhood, the helplessness of womanhood, the 
hoary and venerable circlet on the brows of the 
aged — nothing was respected, nothing spared. 

2S9 


290 


The A frican Fabiola. 


They wished to drown in blood the accursed 
Christian race. But God in his omnipotence 
turned that blood into a germ and a seed so 
fruitful that it gave to the Church thousands of 
new children. You are as well aware of this 
marvellous and astounding fact as lam; it it does 
not make you reflect, I pity you. 

“ Noble senators, your so-called religion is 
pleasant and accommodating ; it puts no restraint 
on the inner man nor on the desires of his heart. 
Pride, pleasure, intemperance, and all the pas- 
sions are allowed full scope ; every man is at 
liberty to give free rein to all his thoughts and 
desires ; your religion knows no barrier save the 
impossibility of further enjoyment. To it be- 
long enjoyment, pleasure, festivities, public 
games, theatricals, luxury, display, and banquet- 
ing; to it belong, too, the peace of the nation, 
the protection given by the laws, position and 
honor in society— everything, even the crown of 
the Caesars. Our religion is the reverse of all 
this. Her creed requires the silent submission of 
the understanding, her precepts the obedience 
of the heart and of the will. To embrace it we 
must renounce every inordinate desire and de- 
vote ourselves to a life of retirement, prayer, and 
abnegation. Ours are contempt and revil- 
ings, and the future has in store for us only 
exile, prison, tortures, and death. According to 
all the laws of nature and all the aspirations of 
the human heart, we should increase your ranks, 


The Two Religions . 


291 


we should demand of your religion what is denied 
to us by our own, we should seek in your com- 
pany all those enjoyments that embellish life and 
from which we have voluntarily estranged our- 
selves ; and it is you who take refuge in our 
camp and come to be enrolled under the humble 
and blood-stained standard of the cross ! There 
must be a reason for this. We are of your own 
stock and nature. We were made, not born, 
Christians. We have lived among you and have 
taken part in your rites and sacrifices. But we 
separated from you because the light has shone 
in our souls. We have been convinced that the 
gods whom we formerly worshipped with you 
are not gods ; that what we held and practised 
as a religion in the past is unworthy of any up- 
right and enlightened mind, and more unworthy 
still of every honest and pure heart. It would 
be cowardice and a crime to resist our convic- 
tions. With erect heads and hearts we have 
ranged ourselves on the side, of truth and have 
pledged to her cause our honor, our liberty, and 
©ur very lives. 

“ Noble magistrates, hear me without prejudice, 
as men of your wisdom and exalted position 
should. We are told to sacrifice to the gods and 
to acknowledge them as such. I appeal to your 
consciences ; let us be judged, let us be condemn- 
ed by them, as we should certainly deserve to be, 
provided you can deny that all those whom you 
style your gods were men like you and me. If 


292 The African Fabiola. 

you admit it, we are acquitted, and you shall have 
no alternative but to imitate our example. If, 
despite the testimony of your conscience, you 
question this fact, take heed, for all the monu- 
ments of the past rise up against you as so many 
incontestable witnesses; they will give you the 
names of the cities where those men were born, 
the countries where they lived, the places where 
they died and where the graves may still be 
found that cover their ashes. I shall not weary 
you with the ridiculous history of each of those 
gods; it would be interminable, for there are gods 
old and new, barbarian, Grecian, Roman, Cartha- 
genian, private, public, urban, rural, naval, and 
military. I shall reduce the question to a single 
point, which you would fain forget because it over- 
whelms you. 

“ You avow, and it is universally admitted, that 
Saturn is the oldest and the first of all your gods. 
He heads the catalogue, and accordingly it is from 
him you derive all the leading and most honored 
gods of your interminable calendar. But what is 
true of the first or father of your gods is equally 
so of all his descendants. Question, therefore, 
your most ancient historians, examine the monu- 
ments of antiquity — they are impartial and irre- 
fragable witnesses of the facts. Saturn was born 
and lived in Greece, whence he came into Italy 
at the time of King Janus. He gave laws to 
that country, then in a state of barbarism. Like 
all men born of woman, he grew old and died 


293 


The Two Religions . 

there. Fable loves a wide range and deals in 
fancies, not facts, and thus it made Saturn the 
son of heaven and earth, as if they had blended 
and brought forth an offspring. In common 
with us, you have classed this absurdity as belong- 
ing to the domain of poetry, and you know full 
well that it arose from the fact that Saturn was a 
stranger from a distant country and of unknown 
parentage. Even to-day we say of a person who 
comes suddenly and unseen that he has fallen 
from the sky or clouds . And so it was with 
Saturn. 

“ But if Saturn was only a man, a fact that no 
one can seriously doubt, those born of him, your 
Jupiter and the rest, were men like their father, 
or else the ridiculous absurdity must be admitted 
that the immortal gods owe both existence and 
godship to miserable mortals. Besides, yon your- 
selves recount their birth; you tell what woman 
or what goat suckled them ; you find diversion 
in narrating their exploits and adventures. I am 
aware that, to avoid the crushing arguments de- 
rived from the more than humble part played by 
them, you assert that godship was communicated 
to them after death . You admit, therefore, in 
spite of } 7 ourselves, a supreme, absolute, self- 
existing God from the fact that, as you say, he 
cau communicate divinity to those who previous- 
ly had it not. By what name, then, will you call 
this omnipotent, self-existing, eternal Being? 
How do you worship him ? What sacrifices do 


294 The Afi ican Fdbiola . 

you offer to him ? Is lie in Carthage, as at 
Athens, the unknown God— the God without a 
name % What a shame for those who call them- 
selves wise men ! 

“ The divine nature is incommunicable; it is 
essentially eternal, one , infinite, and indivisible ; 
but were it otherwise, and could it be supposed, 
by an impossible hypothesis, that men could be 
made gods, although the eternal God needs no 
one, much less the dead, to assist him in the gov- 
ernment of a world which he created and which 
existed long before your Saturn and your Jupiter, 
assuredly it would not be those whom you sense- 
lessly adore that he would have chosen to raise 
to such a dignity. We know all about those so- 
called gods ; we have read your theologians and 
poets, and we blush even now at the thought that 
we were once capable of burning a single grain 
of incense on their altars ! 

“ Is it necessary to remind you of what your 
priests still repeat every day to you in your tem- 
ples ? The gods are unparalleled for cruelty, 
avarice, knavery, hatred, bickering, adultery, and 
incest. This one eats his children lest they 
should verify the prediction that they would one 
day take up arms against and dethrone him ; that 
one defiles his own sister’s bed, and lends himself 
to every degradation and meanness to satisfy his 
brutal passions and lusts so infamous that they 
would disgrace the most degraded debauchee 
among men ; one is treacherous and a thief ; an- 


The Two Religions. 


295 


other delights only in murder, riots, and 
blood. Sarentina has altars erected to her, al- 
though she outstripped a Lais or a Rhyme as a 
prostitute. Some of your gods are always drunk 
and reeling with wine, like those besotted, de- 
graded beings whom your children mock and 
bespatter with mud in our streets. It must 
needs be acknowledged then that God, who is 
infinite, and from whom, too, the future cannot 
be hidden, was sadly mistaken in making such a 
hasty selection and that he closed heaven to men 
infinitely preferable and more meritorious. 

“ Strange inconsistency ! you say there is a 
Tartarus , a prison or place of punishment for the 
wicked, to which you consign unnatural children' 
adulteresses, persons guilty of incest, rape, or 
cruelty, thieves, murderers, corrupters of chil- 
dren, cheats, perjurers — in fact, all those who 
most closely resemble some one or other of your 
gods. Ah ! hearken to me and rid your heaven 
of this infamous rabble, consign them to hell, 
their proper place ; it is far more just to bring 
back from Tartarus and enthrone in heaven all 
those men so unreasonably condemned to suffer- 
ing, since their crimes are incomparably less 
heinous than those of your so-called gods. Blas- 
phemy ! sacrilege ! you will perhaps exclaim. 
You may rage and fume as you will ; you know 
in your hearts that we say but the truth and that 
shame alone restrains us from enumerating many 
and far worse crimes. 


296 


The African Fabiola . 


“ To these powerless, godless divinities you 
have been able to attribute only contemptible 
parts. One of your oldest and most esteemed 
poets, whose verses grace all your festivities, has 
immortalized their imperfections and absurdities. 
In one instance your gods, having sided with the 
Trojans or the Greeks, fight each other like so 
many gladiators ; in another a goddess, with a 
name synonymous with lust would pollute our 
lips, complains and weeps like a child at seeing 
herself bleeding from a wound made by a sol- 
dier’s arrow. Mars, your invincible Mars, allows 
himself to be detected and bound hand and foot 
by a lame blacksmith ; for three months does he 
pine in bonds and in the fear of death. The all- 
powerful Jove barely escapes the conspiracy 
formed by the gods against him and his despotic 
tyranny ; like a drivelling old man, he can only 
bestow tears on his son, Sarpedon, when he could 
not save his life. Apollo tends the flocks of 
King Admetus ; Neptune hires him as he would 
a mason to build the walls of Troy ; his grand- 
father strikes Esculapius with lightning for the 
venality and avarice with which he practised his 
art ; a contest for the palm of beauty takes place 
between some of the goddesses, precisely as might 
have been the case among so many vain courte- 
sans, and they leave the decision to the judgment 
of an effeminate stripling ; even the grave Cybele 
languishingly sighs for a scornful swain. Such 
are the sort of gods for whom you claim our re- 


The Two Religions . 


297 


verence; yonr very comedians turn them into 
ridicule on the stage, and by so doing give proof 
of having better sense than you can lay claim to. 

“Would that they were only criminal and ri- 
diculous ! But they are also your teachers ; in 
their school what can you learn except crime, and 
how can you honor them worthily unless by imi- 
tating their excesses and debaucheries ? Do you 
believe we know nothing about your disgraceful 
mysteries ? We are perfectly aware that it is in 
your temples, at the feet of your altars, in the 
name of your gods, and to please them, that 
shrinking modesty is basely immolated ; it is with 
brows bound with sacred fillets that your wives 
and daughters prostitute themselves in the name 
of religion. Your rites and ceremonies demand 
and consecrate the most frightful abominations ; 
your gods invite you to commit them ; they 
smile on your crimes ; their festivals, to be pro- 
perly celebrated, must become wild orgies, mad 
revels, where all decency is publicly outraged. 
But I will pursue no further a subject so disgust- 
ing and vast. . . . One day when wisdom shall 
have enlightened the nations, when that light 
from above that even now shines for us shall 
have dissipated the filthy darkness that still 
shrouds the human race, posterity will ask with 
surprise and awe how could it have been possible 
that men could have accepted and adored such 
gods, and, in the face of day, could have offered 
them a sacrifice immeasurably more awful than 


298 The African Fabiola. 

human blood — the sacrifice of modesty and chas- 
tity. 

“We spurn and abhor those gods of human in- 
vention and make with whom you have peopled 
your Olympus. Our God (and may he soon be- 
come yours ! ) had no beginning ; his age is eterni- 
ty. Infinite in his perfections, essentially holy, 
or rather holiness itself, it was he who, by his 
word, wisdom, and omnipotence, created the 
world and all its array of elements, bodies, and 
spirits, in order to show forth his power and 
glory. He is invisible, although he appears con- 
stantly in the marvels of creation ; impalpable 
even while stamping in us his image ; incompre- 
hensible to our weakness, even though human 
reason may arrive at the knowledge of him ; per- 
fectly known only to himself, since he alone is 
infinite and illimitable. Nothing conveys a more 
magnificent conception of him than the very im- 
possibility of that conception, his infinite perfec- 
tions and transcendent greatness revealing and 
at the same time hiding him from the minds of 
men, and thus rendering him both known and 
unknown to human ken. 

“ If the heavens, the earth, the ocean, the day, 
the night speak eloquently 'of him and repeat 
his glory to every attentive mind, the soul, de- 
spite the prison of the body and the tyranny of 
the passions, when it awakes as if to sudden con- 
sciousness, pays homage to his name and pro- 
claims faith in him: Great God ! Good God! 


The Two Religions. 


299 


-4s God wills ! God wills ! Oh ! testimony of 
the soul naturally Christian. His name fre- 
quently starts unbidden and unthinkingly to 
your lips, and when this happens is it not a 
fact that you then turn your eyes, not towards 
one of your temples, but towards heaven ? The 
reason is because the soul knows that it is in 
heaven that God, that he who alone merits this 
name, has his dwelling-place and his throne ; 
that it is from heaven it derived its origin, since 
it derived it from God. 

“ Besides the Scriptures, whose simple and yet 
sublime pages were inspired by him, from the 
beginning and through every age God delegated 
certain men who, by their virtues and merits, were 
made worthy of knowing him and of making 
him known to others ; these he enlightened by 
his Spirit to proclaim to the world that there is 
but one God who created all things, and mould- 
ed man from the dust of the earth, who governs 
the seasons, whose ministers and avengers are the 
elements, who has given precepts and laws, the 
violation of which shall entail eternal punish- 
ment, and their observance everlasting reward, 
when, at the end of time, he will summon the 
dead to his tribunal. The men who received this 
divine mission we call seers , because the secrets 
of the future were unveiled to them. Their 
prophecies and the miracles wrought by them in 
proof of their mission are narrated in our sacred 
books, which antedate by many centuries your 


300 The African Fabiola. 

most ancient records, jour gods, your oracles, and 
jour sacrifices ; one of them named Moses pre- 
ceded your Homer by more than five hundred 
years, and yet there were many prophets previous 
to his day. They all foretold the establishment, 
progress, trials, combats, and triumphs of Christ’s 
religion. Seeing what comes to pass in our own 
day, we call' to mind the fact that they had been 
foretold, and our faith only grows stronger. I am 
not surprised that you scoff at these things ; I 
myself did so formerly, but then I was blind like 
yourselves. 

“Long beforehand our prophets had foretold 
•that, in punishment for their pride and infidelity, 
the Jewish people, banished from their country, 
dispersed, wandering, without a God, king, or 
altar, would show to every nation on the globe 
the awful malediction that pursued them ; you can 
verify the truth of this prophecy for yourselves. 
But it was foretold that God would then choose 
to himself more faithful followers from the East 
and West, that the new Lawgiver who was to come 
to enlighten, reform, and save the nations would 
be God’s own Son, not a son that would have to 
blush for the wickedness of his father, who 
should owe his existence to the incest of a sister, 
to the weakness of a sedtrced girl, to the in- 
fidelity of another man’s wife, but a Son eternally 
begotten of his Father, and in the plenitude of 
time born of the purest of virgins without man 
having had any part in this marvellous conception. 


The Two Religions. 


301 


“ For five thousand years heaven announced 
Emmanuel, the Man- God, to the world; the 
world awaited his coming with trembling anxiety ; 
the time and the place of his birth were known ; 
at the specified moment the Desired of the nations 
appeared. To accommodate himself to our weak- 
ness and wants he clothed himself with our hu- 
man nature ; but under its lowly garb his di- 
vinity remained not entirely hidden. Under the 
carping scrutiny of a prejudiced people lie gave 
repeated proofs of his divine origin. By the 
same word that created the world and shall one 
day renew it, he put demons to flight, gave sight 
to the blind, cured the leper and the sick, made 
the paralytic walk, commanded the elements and 
the storm, and called the dead from their graves. 
He foretold the manner of his death, and when 
the hour was come he voluntarily delivered him- 
self up to his enemies, and died on the cross — on 
the cross the object of your derision, because 
you know not its glory or power. His death 
was accompanied by miracles that demonstrated 
his divinity ; he gave up the ghost at his own free 
will and with his own word, thus anticipating 
and rendering unnecessary the usual office of the 
executioner ; the snn veiled himself in his meri- 
dian splendor and grew dark ; the heavens were 
draped in murky clouds, the hills shook, the 
rocks were rent, the veil of the temple was torn, 
the dead arose and appeared to many. Christ 
lived like a God and he died like a God. A cen- 


302 


The African Fabiola. 


turion and some Roman soldiers were the first 
conquest of the Crucified One. 

“ He had said, ‘7 lay down my life • on the 
third day I will rise again.’ Accordingly, at the 
dawn of that day, and notwithstanding the pre- 
cautions taken by the Jews and the guard watch- 
ing the sepulchre, the stone rolled away from it, to 
the terror and dismay of the soldiers ; in the empty 
tomb there was found only a winding-sheet; 
Christ, death’s conqueror, had arisen. Forty 
days after he ascended gloriously to heaven in 
the presence of his apostles. Pilate, a Christian 
by instinct, bnt by policy the murderer of the 
Just One, transmitted to the emperor Tiberius an 
exact account of all this. This document is still 
preserved in the archives at Rome and is widely 
known. The Caesars would have become Chris- 
tians long ago had they not been necessary for 
the world, and still more necessary for the de- 
signs of God upon his nascent Church. 

“ The men chosen by Christ to preach his doc- 
trine were but humble fishermen. They had 
neither the learning of philosophers nor the elo- 
quence of orators ; nevertheless, aided by 
strength from on high, they confidently divided 
the whole world for their future spiritual conquest. 
All the nations have heard their voice ; the 
islands and the continents have witnessed their 
miracles and marvellous progress. Even Athens 
and Rome have paid homage to their irresistible 
words. When death put an end to their glori- 


The Two Religions. 


303 


ous career other apostles moulded by them con- 
tinued the work of regeneration and salvation, 
and you know what rapid strides it has made. 
The worm-eaten throne of your gods is crumbling 
everywhere ; the demons who have caused them- 
selves to be worshipped under the name of those 
would-be gods acknowledge their discomfiture. 
If you desire to persecute us you must lose no 
time, for in a few years the whole world will be 
Christian. Take our blood if you will, that will 
only hasten the day of victory. 

“ Believe and say what you will, Christ is the 
true God. Despite all human opposition, his pa- 
cific reign shall embrace the East and the West, 
and no power can wrest from him the sceptre of 
the world. From the moment of his death on 
the cross the movement began, and all the na- 
tions, drawn by an irresistible power, shall come 
in turn to fall at his feet, until lie will descend 
upon the ruins of the universe to crown those who 
shall have believed in and served him in faith 
and purity of heart. Noble magistrates, if you 
believe not my words, believe at least those whom 
you revere as your gods ; you cannot question 
their testimony. In the name of Christ, we com- 
pel them to acknowledge that they are nothing 
more than unclean demons. In the name of 
Christ, their conqueror and maker, we oblige 
them to come forth trembling from the bodies of 
the possessed ; by the omnipotence of that sacred 
name we compel their oracles to become mute. 


304 The African Fabiola . 

Test it, the experiment may be easily made. Even 
I, the last and least among Christians, am ready 
to stake my head that I shall exhort that avowal 
in your presence from any of your number who, 
by inhaling fumes at the altar, shall show the 
usual signs -of being, as you say, under the influ- 
ence and inspiration of the god. There can be no 
danger that' your gods will lie to their own detri- 
ment and confusion. 

“Such, then, is our faith. We believe in one 
God, eternal Creator and Sovereign Lord of the 
universe. We believe in Christ, his only Son, 
his word, his wisdom. Consequently we are 
forbidden to acknowlege or honor the gods that 
you have made. And if you should like to know 
something regarding what you so unjustly style 
the Christian faction , I will here briefly state 
wliat we are and what we do ; this will show you 
even yet more plainly that to persecute us is 
tantamount to the perpetration of one of the 
most awful crimes — namely, that of persecuting 
innocence itself. 

4 4 We keep aloof from all intrigues ; we never 
mix in politics ; our aims, like our hopes, are on a 
higher plane than this world. We shun your 
public games ; they are born of superstition and 
beget corruption and deceit. We take no part 
in the excesses and follies of the circus, in the 
obscenities of the theatre, the cruelties of the 
arena, nor in the improprieties of the gymnasium; 
we cheerfully leave all your pleasures to your- 


305 


The Two Religions. 

selves ; ours are quieter and purer, and suit us 
better. Besides, if it is our pleasure to shun all 
amusement, what harm is this to others ? And if 
it were a privation, the loss and the regrets should 
affect only ourselves. 

“ Having but the self-same faith and hope, we 
form but one family, or rather body. We meet 
on certain days to worship God ; we pray for the 
emperors at our meetings, although we are ac- 
cused of being their enemies ; we do the same 
for all those in office, for peace, for our friends, 
and even for all who hate us without cause. We 
read our Sacred Scriptures with due respect, and 
draw from them the light and instruction requir- 
ed by our wants and circumstances. The holy 
Word strengthens our faith, animates our hopes, 
nerves our courage, and fortifies us in the per- 
formance of our duties. Aged men preside over 
these assemblies ; having undergone a long pro- 
bation, they are appointed to that honor as a re- 
ward and a public recognition of merit ; for with 
us the priesthood is not a prize to be won' by 
intrigue and bribery. 

“ Nevertheless, we have a sort of treasury ; we 
have no cause to blush, however, on this score, for 
we have made no traffic of religion in order to 
form it. Each of us, according to his means and 
will, makes a small monthly contribution. This 
is a pious fund that runs no risk of being squan- 
dered in feasting and banqueting ; it is used for 
the maintenance and support of the needy, pen- 


306 


The African Fahiola. 


niless orphans, decrepid and abandoned slaves, 
and those who have lost their all by shipwreck. 
When one of our brethren is condemned to the 
hard toil of the mines, chained in the dungeon, 
or transported to some island on account of his 
faith, the religion to which he has generously 
borne testimony follows him and provides for his 
w r ants. 

“ We live in the greatest harmony and union, 
and like brothers we share the goods which 
among you cause so much domestic contention 
and strife. Having but one heart, everything is 
in common between us — everything except our 
children and wives. We are divided only on the 
sole point that unites all other men. Marriage is 
sacred and has inviolable rights among us. With 
you it is different. You do not blush to treat 
your wives as Socrates and Cato did theirs ; the 
children of your wfives may well not be yours 
when the wisest of your philosophers and the 
shrewdest of your censors have set the example 
of'rendering paternity doubtful. 

“ Among us chastity is required of all ; God 
himself taught it to us ; we practise it faithfully^ 
because such is the command of a Judge who 
cannot deceive and who inflicts eternal punish- 
ment on crime. How could it be possible for us 
to shed our brothers’ blood when we are forbid- 
den to harbor even anger? How could we defile 
ourselves with adultery when our law condemns 
lustful thoughts and even looks. So far are we 


The Two Religions. 


307 


from injuring any that we are forbidden to resent 
even injury itself. ' 

“We are accused of being useless members in 
society ; nevertheless, we do not live in the woods 
like the Brahmins of India ; we live among you, 
travel with you, we bear arms, we till the soil, we 
trade, we ply the same trades and professions ; we 
purchase in your warerooms the flour we eat and 
the stuffs we wear; we reject none of the things 
made by God for man’s use ; we simply avoid 
excess and abuse. As to the feasts that we are 
accused of celebrating, their very name indicates 
their object ; we call them agapm, or love-feasts, 
for charity is their end and aim. They do not 
cost enormous sums of money as yours do ; our 
table is served with becoming frugality, and the 
poor man sits at it by the side of the rich, for 
with us the poor are the friends of God and our 
most pleasing care. 

66 Senators of Carthage, pay attention to my 
concluding words. A brave soldier, while he 
does not fear danger, does not seek it ; when it 
comes he does not flinch. We do not invite per- 
secution, but if it does come we will face it bold- 
ly ; it is our glory. We do not rush into the 
jaws of death like madmen ; if it comes we re- 
ceive it cordially and gladly ; for us death is a 
triumph, the entering into the possession of 
that life eternal for which we constantly sigh, so 
that by depriving us of the little place that each 
of us holds in this world we receive in exchange 


308 The African Fabiola. 

a throne in heaven. Do yon thirst for our blood ? 
Take it ; but at the same time learn to know who 
are those innocent and unoffending men that are 
so relentlessly persecuted ! Were they so dis- 
posed, a single night and a few torches would be 
enough to make Carthage a heap of ashes ! Were 
it our rule to do evil for evil, we would have no 
occasion to retaliate in the dark ; we could act 
overtly, and to-morrow — nay, this very day we 
might marshal an army so great, brave, and de- 
voted that your thinned legions would find it no 
easy task to cope with it ; fortunately, however, 
it is one of our principles that it is better to be 
slain than to slay. Instead of rushing to arms, 
all we need do would be to leave you and seek 
some other country ; you would then stand amaz- 
ed at the solitude and desolation to which your 
paralyzed city would be reduced. I have made 
known to you the God whom we adore, and who 
is your God, no matter whether yon will or not. 
I have defended our religion against prejudice, 
ignorance, calumny, and hatred. Judge now 
whether the Christians deserve death ! ” 

And Tertullian slowly withdrew, leaving the 
assembly spellbound by his arguments and elo- 
quence. 



CHAPTER XX. 

Angela’s last moments. 

At his departure from the senate Tertullian 
plainly saw that the crowds around the doors 
were greatly excited. Although he readily sur- 
mised the cause, still he calmly made his way 
through the press and bent his steps homeward ; 
it was about the ninth hour of the day. The 
pagan priest was coming from the opposite di- 
rection, and as he recognized Tertullian’s retreat- 
ing form all the hate of his envenomed soul 
broke loose. He strove to harangue the mob in 
order to set them on the hated victim whom he 
had sworn to ruin ; but the words died on his 
parched and quivering lips, anger so choked 
his utterance as to render him incapable of speech. 
The mob laughed at his vain efforts and the con- 
tortions of his red and bloated countenance ; 
some even hissed him. When the opportunity 
presented itself, the pagans freely bestowed their 
contempt and sarcasm on the venerable represen- 
tatives of their immortal gods. 

Meantime the senate resumed its deliberations 
but with its wonted calmness and dignity. Ter- 
309 



310 The African Fabiola. 

tullian’s eloquent harangue still rang in their 
ears ; they seemed to hear the echo of the tri- 
umphant proofs of the innocence of the Chris- 
tians, of the blind, fanatical injustice and hatred 
shown them on all sides. On the other hand, 
they still seemed to gaze on the beauteous and 
heavenly form of that religion which, in God’s 
name and by his commission, revealed to the 
world doctrines so simple and sublime, and a code 
of morals that could have been framed only in 
heaven. 9 The ominous terms proscription and 
death were mentioned no more. To conciliate 
the mob, however, the more timid advised the 
arrest of some of the more zealous and leading 
Christians, but the majority opposed the measure 
as being the outcome of timidity and fear. “ If 
the Christians are guilty, said these, let them be 
condemned without discrimination and in ac- 
cordance with the imperial edicts. But if no 
crime can be proved against them, justice and its 
own honor makes it incumbent on the senate to 
protect them boldly against their enemies ! ” At 
Borne, as it is well known, the senate did not act 
in this way; it basely bowed to the will and cap- 
rice of its master. 

Instigated by the violent harangues of the im- 
placable Sylvanus and some slaves who were 
simple enough to credit his fair promises, the 
mob sent message after message to the senate to 
inform them that the people would brook delay 
no longer, and had determined to take the law 


Angela? s Last Moments . 


311 


into their own hands if the laws were not imme- 
diately and sternly enforced against the Chris- 
tians. It was urged that no time was to be lost, 
as the day was already far advanced, and ven- 
geance should not be delayed until the morrow. 
But it was in vain, the senate remained firm, and 
made answer that in justice to itself it could not 
yield to threats and language that breathed re- 
bellion and insolence. The senate would have had 
to pay dearly for their courage and firmness had 
not Hilarian opportunely made his appearance on 
the scene. It was to his interest to postpone 
matters to the next day ; he hoped to succeed 
with Angela. Upon repetition of the assurance 
that he would do full justice to all their reason- 
able demands, the mob agreed to disperse. The 
old mountain shepherd was furious ; headed by a 
band of the more turbulent, he rushed to the gate 
through which the remains of the hapless Jarbas 
had just been brought into the city under the 
escort of a detachment of troops and a guard of 
honor. 

A most wicked and barbarous deed was there 
perpetrated ; at the sight of the urn containing 
the ashes of the late commander all Sylvanus’s 
old hatred of Yivia waxed stronger than ever. 
“ Vengeance ! ” screamed he ; “ vengeance, O my 
friends ! Will you allow more honors to be paid 
to the accursed remains of the villain that be- 
trayed his country and religion for the sake of a 
base woman % ” So saying he rushed like a mad- 


312 


The A frican Fabiola. 


man through the guards, snatched up the urn, 
shivered it into atoms, and flung the ashes to the 
winds. The applause and yells of his companions 
made the scene the very picture of a pande- 
monium. The news of this barbarous deed soon 
reached the ears of the unhappy Yivia ; of the 
man she had so deeply loved she had now nothing 
to weep over save his sad memory ! 

Still the generous neophyte murmured not. 
Her faith and courage came to her aid, and soon 
dried her tears. What cared she more what hap- 
pened in this world ? All her thoughts and aspi- 
rations were now fixed in heaven, where she 
would soon meet her beloved husband. The pre- 
sentiment that her end was nigh grew stronger 
than ever; she felt that her sole duty now was to 
make ready for the glorious testimony which she 
was called upon to give to Jesus Christ. 

But what had become of Angela, the pure, 
tender virgin, whose honor and life were equally 
in jeopardy? Let us turn from the howling 
mob, thirsting for blood and desecrating the ashes 
of a brave soldier who died asking pardon for his 
murderer ; let us return to the Christian maiden 
condemned to dishonor and death by Hilarian, in 
case she will not renounce Jesus Christ as her 
God and Spouse. 

It was late at night when Yivia heard what 
had happened to Angela. Since her final con- 
version the patrician lady had conceived a most 
tender affection for the young virgin. She took 


Angela? s Last Moments . 313 

pleasure in visiting and conversing with her on 
spiritual subjects, but especially on the happiness 
of loving God. Many long hours were spent in 
these sweet communings, but they seemed short, 
they were so pleasant and so full of consolation. 
Angela, too, seeing how worthy and generous 
was that soul, now that it had emancipated itself 
from the' vain things of earth, often denied her- 
self by leaving the retirement in which she loved 
to dwell to seek the society of her young friend. 
Mivia appreciated this mark of friendship all the 
more from the fact that she was fully aware that 
this was an exceptional favor in her behalf. Full 
of anxiety, therefore, on account of the dangers 
that threatened Angela, she could not think of 
retiring to rest. Before dawn, therefore, she set 
out, under the escort of Revocatus and Felicitas, 
to seek her friend. Having arrived at the door, 
she dismissed her attendants with a message for 
her mother and Rufina, lest they might be alarmed 
at her absence. 

After having received the Holy Mysteries at 
the hands of the venerable Optatus, Angela pre- 
pared to spend her last night in prayer. On her 
knees, rapt in ecstasy, with her hands crossed on 
her bosom, she seemed to hold sweet converse 
with some being invisible to other eyes, yet plain- 
ly visible and present to hers. A heavenly smile 
played upon her lips, and by an occasional move- 
ment seemed to be addressing the mysterious ob- 
ject of her affections. As a preparation for the 


314 


The A fi lean Fabiola. 


immediate celebration of her eternal espousals 
with the Spotless Lamb, for the signing with her 
blood of the eternal contract of love, she had 
bedecked herself in the white robes of a bride j 
she had placed on her head the white veil received 
at the time of her consecration, together with a 
crown of roses and lilies. In the mellow light of 
the lamp that fell upon her she seemed like an 
angel gazing with rapture and love on the very 
face of God. 

For a moment Yivia stood spellbound at the 
sight. She was loath to interrupt the deep medi- 
tation and recollection of her friend, but remem- 
bering that she had come to listen and speak to 
the generous maiden for the last time, and to 
gather strength for her own confession of the 
faith, she drew nigh, and, calling her by name, 
fell weeping into her arms. 

“ Why, Yivia, is this you?” said the young vir- 
gin, as she aroused herself from her ecstasy. “ Of 
course you have come to congratulate me on my 
good-fortune. Oh ! how happy am I to die for 
my Beloved. A few hours more and I shall go 
to him ; I shall see him ; I shall gaze face to face 
upon his adorable countenance and shall be re- 
ceived into his loving arms ! ” 

“ Angela, why are you so anxious to leave us 
all, to depart from a world that you edify by your 
good example and many virtues ? ” 

“It is His will ; he has heard the plaintive 
cooing of the dove ; he stretches out his hand to 


Angela's Last Moments. 315 

restore her to the ark where he dwells, to the 
mystic cell where he reposes. My captive, exiled 
soul yearns for him , to fly to him. If you but 
knew my Beloved as I know him! I saw him 
only for a little while, alas ! How indescribably 
beautiful he is! What sweetness in his looks! 
How ravishing his smile ! how tender and loving 
his accents ! In him everything is incomparable, 
everything is pleasing, everything is ravishing, 
everything floods the heart with happiness and 
love ! ” 

61 But can you not live and love as you have 
always done in the past ? ” 

16 Vi via, for the ten years that have elapsed 
since He wounded my heart I have been lan- 
guishing, not living. And you, who are so kind, 
would you desire to drop gall into my cup of 
happiness ? But hark ! He is speaking. He calls. 
He bids me hasten.” 

The young virgin suddenly assumed the at- 
titude of one listening to a voice speaking to 
her. With feelings of awe, Vi via broke not the 
solemn silence. Though she heard no sound, the 
atmosphere seemed to be gently moved and laden 
with unearthly fragrance. A brilliant glory en- 
circled Angela’s head ; her face became radiant 
with indescribable beauty ; the blush of the rose 
and the whiteness of the lily were there blended 
in marvellous perfection. 

“ Did you hear Him, Vivia ? ” said she after a 
short pause. u Did you see my Beloved f Never 


316 


The African Fabiola. 


was his voice sweeter ; never did he seem to me 
more fair and lovely. His hand touched mine, 
and I felt as if he placed a ring upon my finger ; 
his lips were pressed to my brow. How can I 
explain the heavenly raptures that deluged my 
soul ? 1 thought I should have died of happiness 
and love ; what, then, shall it be in heaven, when 
I shall contemplate him in the fulness of his 
beauty, when I shall possess him with all the 
strength of my affection and love ? ” 

“ Beloved Angela, do not take umbrage at the 
words of a poor neophyte. I understand the 
earnestness of your desire ; death will bestow 
upon yon the heavenly Spouse whom you so ar- 
dently love. But who will console your parents 
for the loss of their idolized child ? ” 

“ He who never forsakes his own, who turns 
to joy every anguish that is offered to him with 
humility and resignation. My parents ! Ah ! 
you know how I love them. For a little while 
my heart was tortured at the thought of being 
separated from them. But my Beloved is still 
more dear to me ; 1 am his • he calls me ; besides, 
he has informed me that I shall precede them 
only by a few short days.” 

“ Great is your faith ; ‘still greater is your love, 
Angela. Why am I not like you ? But as you 
are determined to* give your life for the faith of 
Jesus Christ, I only ask you to defer your happi- 
ness for a short time. You have heard of the 
events that have caused so much excitement 


Angela! s Last Moments . 317 

among the people. The mob is everywhere cla- 
moring for our death ; a persecution is inevita- 
ble, and many of our brethren will be called on 
to lay down their lives for the faith. As, through 
hatred of our holy religion, Jarbas was assassinat- 
ed, persecuted, and insulted even after death, 
it is but natural that bis widow should be singled 
out by the fury of our enemies. For the sake of 
our brethren and my sake consent to live a little 
while longer. You will encourage us by your 
example, you will console us in prison, and, by 
leading us on the day of trial, you will preserve 
us from yielding to cowardice or weakness. In 
the name of Christ, your Spouse, I conjure you 
not to forsake ns, more especially myself, who am 
but a weak catechumen and a too fond mother. 
What would become of me without you ? ” 

“ What God shall will, and as it may be pleas- 
ing to his providence. By his grace I shall lead 
the way. He has been pleased to choose me for 
the first offering of the Carthagenian Church ; 
seek not to deprive me of this privilege. This 
very day, Yivia, I am destined to be truly es- 
poused to the Beloved of my heart. The altar is 
ready, the Spouse awaits me ; in a few moments 
Hilarian’s guards shall be here to lead me to his 
tribunal.” 

“ It is not yet day. Come home with me, An- 
gela ; the privacy of my house will save you from 
molestation. Together we can there pray and 
wait for the time marked by Almighty God ; we 


318 


The African Fabiola. 


will die together, for I also am to give my life for 
the cause of Christ. My husband is awaiting me 
in heaven ; he appeared to me and offered me a 
crown similar to his own.” 

“ Blessed be God ! What greater fortune or 
happiness than to die for Him who died for us ? 
Prepare yourself, Yivia, for that glad hour. I shall 
intercede with my Beloved that he render you 
worthy of the glory prepared for you. I may not 
await you ; behold, I am clad in my bridal robes, 
and have my nuptial crown on my head ! What 
would the Bridegroom say were I to delay even 
for one moment that eternal union so yearned for 
by my heart ? I am called by him to the altar. 
Oh ! may the messengers sent to take me thither 
come speedily. I see him he beckons to me, 
and his melting voice whispers in my ear : Come , 
my sister ; arise , hasten , my beloved; come and 
receive thy bridal crown.” 

“ But have you forgotten that before you shall 
be cast to the wild beasts you are to be exposed 
in a place of infamy ? Angela, how can your 
pure soul contemplate the possibility of what is 
a thousand times worse than any death? Oh! 
save, save yourself from such a horrible fate. 
The wretches seek to rob you of purity, your 
greatest treasure ! ” 

“ Yivia, remember the virgin Potamiena, your 
pious mother’s companion and friend ! He will 
be with me, as he was with her. He can change 
the place of infamy into an impenetrable sane- 


Angela's Last Moments. 319 

tuary. Has he not thousands of angels to pro- 
tect me under their wings ? When the judge 
condemned me yesterday to undergo that sen- 
tence, I confess I trembled and wept ; but my 
Beloved told me not to fear, that he himself would 
take care of my honor and purity, and that I 
should come to him without blemish or defile- 
ment. I have confidence in his promise. Ho, 
dear Yivia, he will not permit me to be put to 
shame. . . . But hist ! I hear the footsteps of 
those sent to seek me. Farewell, and pray for 
me.” 

Yivia, hearing no noise, imagined that this was 
a mistake. Besides, it was scarcely daybreak, 
and it was not likely, as she thought, that the 
officers of the law should come at so untimely an 
hour. But upon opening the window she de- 
scried in the distance a band of armed men hurry- 
ing silently along the street. There was no room 
for doubt ; she was at a loss to account for her 
friend’s knowledge of their approach, for it hard- 
ly occurred to her that some invisible monitor 
had secretly warned the young martyr of the ap- 
proach of the soldiers. Overwhelmed with grief 
at the thought of their separation, she fell weep- 
ing upon Angela’s neck, entreating her to fly 
while there was yet time. 

“ Hear Yivia,” answered the youthful virgin, 
with a winning smile, “ your affection for me 
makes you forget yourself. Fly ! fly from my 
Beloved when the moment so long wished for is 


320 The African Fabiola. 

come to be united to him for eternity ? Why 
should I do him such a wrong ? Pray, Vivia, we 
shall soon meet near him in heaven.” 

Quietly disengaging herself from Yivia’s arms, 
she fell once more upon her knees. The patri- 
cian lady made no further efforts, but contented 
herself with gazing on her and silently joining 
with her in prayer. 

Meanwhile the guards had surrounded the 
door. Pudens, their officer, bade the slave who 
had come to know who had knocked to deliver to 
him a young Christian named Angela, whom he 
had orders to bring to Hilarian’s tribunal. The 
terrified slave ran trembling to his master ; the 
latter immediately presented himself to the cen- 
turion. 

Pudens was a brave soldier ; although he was 
but the son of a freedman, his gallantry soon 
distinguished him among his companions inarms, 
and had won for him the rank of officer in the 
Roman legions. But years of hard service and 
many wounds had rendered him unfit for further 
duty in the field, and so he had been assigned to 
the command of the prison guards. Being pen- 
niless and without means of support, necessity 
obliged him to accept the position, no matter 
however unwilling he might have been. He was 
of a very gentle disposition, full of kindness, hu- 
manity, and tenderness; he was stern only in 
battle. As may be easily imagined, he had great 
compassion for the hardships and privations of 


Angela's Last Moments . 


321 


the prisoners, and was often seen mingling his 
tears with theirs. It was only with reluctance 
that such a man could have undertaken the pain- 
ful task in which we now find him engaged. 

Upon seeing the sad and pale face of Angela’s 
father he hastily brushed away a tear with the 
back of his hand, saluted him courteously, and, 
with a voice that betrayed the agitation of his 
bosom, said : 

“ Venerable sir, pardon me for being a mes- 
senger of woe to your house. Being a soldier, I 
must obey my officers, and, no matter how re- 
gretfully, I am obliged to execute my orders. 
The lieutenant-governor, Hilarian, has charged 
me to conduct forthwith to his pretorium the 
maiden who made her appearance there yester- 
day.” . ♦ 

“ Kind sir,” answered Angela’s father, u I sin- 
cerely compassionate you. It is indeed a painful 
duty to be obliged to tear from the arms of a fa- 
ther and mother an innocent child in order to 
lead her to death. But my religion forbids me 
to bear you any ill will ; you are at liberty to 
carry out your orders. I have but one request 
to make : put no chains on my beloved child. 
She will follow you unresistingly. I conjure 
you, in the name of your own mother, in the 
name of your sisters, if you ever had any, re- 
spect, and make your soldiers respect, her mo- 
desty. Oh ! our Angela is so timid and pure.” 

“ Have no fears for the honor of your daugli- 


322 


The African Fabiola . 


ter ; she shall be under my protection until I de- 
liver her to the lieutenant-governor, and woe to 
the man who would dare to insult her delicacy 
even by a word ! It would cost him dearly, for 
I am a soldier. My orders were to put manacles 
on her, but as this would pain you, and is, as 
you say, unnecessary, she shall walk untram- 
melled by my side. Hilarian may say what he 
pleases about it ; I am used to being twitted on 
the score of my excessive soft-heartedness.” 

“ May God reward you for your humanity and • 
respect for modesty ! May his grace bring the 
light into your soul ! Worthy centurion, you 
deserve to know him ! ” 

“ I am no believer in your God, but, as he has 
done me no evil, I do not join the crowd in in- 
sulting him. It is said *hat those who worship 
him are upright and charitable ; so far I shall 
always respect them, even though I believe them 
to be mistaken. But, by your leave, I may tarry 
no longer in idle speech ; time presses and Hi- 
larian does not like to be kept waiting. Where 
is your daughter? I have confidence in your 
word and shall remain here with my soldiers. 
Go, then, I pray you, and bring her forth without 
delay.” 

“ Spare, oh ! spare me the anguish of announc- 
ing to my child that the moment of separation 
has come. Do you accompany me, and upon 
seeing you she will understand the motive of 
your coming, and will follow you.” 


Angela' s Last Moments. 323 

So they went up together to Angela’s chamber. 

The young virgin was still on her knees, seem- 
ingly rapt in deepest meditation. As usual, her 
hands were crossed on her bosom ; her eyes were 
raised towards a picture of Christ, her heavenly 
Bridegroom. There they remained, motionless 
and rayless, wholly devoid of that living sheen 
that habitually revealed all the burning emotions 
of her heart. Her lips were still ; the smile that 
had parted them seemed to have frozen on them as 
if on the lips of a statue. She neither moved nor 
stirred. Her brow had the whiteness of the lily ; 
her face was pale, but it wore that calm, subdued 
pallor that belongs to sleeping innocence, calm 
repose, and angelic dreams. A heavenly beauty 
sat upon her brow similar to that which God will 
stamp on the persons of the elect on the morning 
of the resurrection. Hard by her mother and 
Yivia knelt and wept awaiting the fatal moment. 

At the sight of Angela the centurion Pudens 
stood still through amazement and awe ; he 
dared not so much as even to enter the chamber. 
Never before had he seen anything similar to 
this. That indescribable beauty ; that air of can- 
dor, innocence, and calm repose ; that preternatu- 
ral reflection of a joy and happiness which sen- 
sual paganism could not conceive and had never 
been capable of bestowing on its goddesses ; the 
snow-white dress that, with equal grace and mo- 
desty, enshrouded the entire person of the youth- 
ful virgin ; and that attitude of deep recollection. 


324 


The African Fabiola. 


made such a picture and produced such a deep 
impression on him that he was struck dumb with 
astonishment. After some moments of silent 
contemplation, and remembering the orders he 
came to execute, he motioned to the father to an- 
nounce to Angela that it was necessary she should 
now follow him to the lieutenant-governor’s tri- 
bunal. 

“ My child,” said the unhappy parent, “ arise 
and say good-by to your mother. I shall accom- 
pany you as far as I shall be permitted to go. I 
trust God will give me the necessary strength. I 
shall be as near as possible to you during your 
final combat, and shall lovingly gather up the 
torn fragments of the meal left by the hungry 
lions of the Amphitheatre.” 

Angela seemed not to hear him, although she 
usually awoke from ecstasy and returned to con- 
sciousness whenever any one addressed her. 
Twice did her father call her by name, but she 
stirred not ; he took her hand to lift her up, but 
her hands remained' rigid and immovable on her 
bosom. “ Angela ! ” repeated he in a louder 
tone, “ arise ; the Lord calls you.” 

“ Angela has gone to heaven,” exclaimed 
Yivia, as she fell upon her knees ; “ her fair, pure 
soul has taken its flight to Christ, her Spouse. 
He has saved her from shame and dishonor and 
has kept his promise to her.” 

She was not mistaken ; the young virgin was 
indeed dead ! She had just breathed her last, or 


Angela! s Last Moments. 325 

rather had calmly fallen asleep in the Lord. Ar- 
dent longing and fervent love had consumed the 
shackles that bound her soul ; or rather, as Yi- 
via had just said, the divine Spouse, jealous of 
her virginal purity, had taken her to himself, had 
received her into his bosom. Heaven alone 
holds the secret of her death, and it is not given 
to us to peer into its mysteries. One thing we 
do know and firmly believe — that God can, and 
sometimes does, derogate from the laws of nature 
in favor of those whom he loves. 

Angela’s parents blessed God as they wept 
over their beloved child. Yivia became animated 
by a still greater desire of laying down her life 
for the faith of Jesus Christ. Amazed at what 
he had witnessed, and glad to escape from so 
painful a task, the centurion affectionately pressed 
the old man's hand and said : “ I would willingly 
give twenty years of my life to be the father of 
such a daughter. I do not know what to think ; 
such things never happen among us, and I am 
tempted to believe that, after all, your God may 
be the true God.” 

That night, by torch-light, the young virgin’s 
body, clad in white, with its crown of roses and 
lilies, its crossed hands, and half-parted lips still 
wreathed with the angelic smile they were at the 
moment of death, was laid in the family vault. 
The venerable Optatus was pleased to preside in 
person at the funeral service. The Christians 
who had been able to be present knelt and prayed 


326 


The African Fabiola. 


with the parents around the lowly grave. That 
consolation was not granted, however, to Vi via ; 
for her the hour had come to give her glorious 
testimony to Christ. 


t 




CHAPTER XXI. 

THE TWO INTERVIEWS. 

When the centurion Pudens had narrated to 
Hilarian the strange scene he had witnessed the 
lieutenant-governor’s first impulse was to dis- 
credit the whole affair ; his mind was filled with 
a thousand conflicting thoughts. Had the officer 
lacked nerve to carry out his instructions ? Had 
he not yielded to the tears and entreaties of a dis- 
tressed family ? Might he not have been bribed 
by valuable presents, and thus have connived at 
the escape of the Christian maiden ? Might it 
not be possible that, at the instigation of her pa- 
rents, the girl had feigned to have swooned away 
or to be dead ? What proof was there that the 
extraordinary state in which the officer stated he 
had found her, and what, in his simplicity, he 
imagined to be death, was not the result of magic, 
in which it was well known the Christians were 
such practical adepts? He resolved to test the 
truth by personal examination, and arrived at 
Angela’s late home just as Yivia and her favorite 
slave, who had returned to rejoin her, were 
issuing from it. 

327 


328 


The African Fabiola. 


The dead body was lying on a bed. Its ap- 
pearance was so unchanged that Hilarian thought 
for a moment he had found Angela in a tranquil 
slumber ; but the hands and brow were cold, re- 
spiration had ceased, the heart was still, although 
the limbs were as pliaut as if she were yet alive. 
Hilarian made a long and careful examination, 
and, seeing there was no room for doubt, he de- 
parted without uttering a single word. His 
hatred and anger against the Christians became 
greater and more envenomed than ever, as if 
they had been instrumental in his discomfiture 
and had thwarted his designs ; but as Yivia and 
Felicitas had crossed his path they must be the 
first and chief victims of his resentment. As they 
had met him, there could be no doubt that they 
had recognized him, and would laugh at his dis- 
comfiture and report it throughout the entire city. 

At his return home he found the pagan priest, 
Olympius, waiting for an interview. He took 
very good care not to inform him of what had 
occurred ; he could not hide his bad humor, how- 
ever, and accordingly launched forth in invectives 
against the accursed Christians, who continued to 
be protected by the senate in spite of the out- 
spoken sentiments of the people, and whom the 
governor of Carthage was afraid to punish not- 
withstanding the positive commands contained in 
the imperial edicts. Nothing could have been 
more palatable to the rancorous heart of his 
visitor. 


The Two Inter mews. 


329 


“ Why, then,” said Olympius, “do you annoy 
yourself so much about what the senate thinks ? 
Do we not all know what it is ? It is composed 
of a few nobles crazy on the score of lineage, 
mad in the pursuit of pleasure or wealth, and ab- 
solutely indifferent to the interests of the city 
and province. A few decrepit drivellers, whose 
whole ambition is to die in peace, and who trem- 
ble like children at the bare thought of seeing a 
single drop of blood shed in Carthage. What 
matters to them the cause of the gods and the 
stability of our religion, provided they be allowed 
to arrive peaceably at the goal of their mortal 
career ? As for Firmilian, who is governor only 
in name , his days are drawing to a close. A 
short time ago another and a more severe crisis 
has set, and I have hurried hither to bring you 
the good news. You are thus at liberty to act 
with as much impunity as if he were actually 
dead. By using his name and seal you can 
placard the edict of persecution on the senate 
doors and throughout the entire city. The peo- 
ple are anxiously expecting it, and will hail it 
with universal satisfaction and rejoicing.” 

“ You can rest assured,” answered Hilarian, 
“ that it is not through fear of the governor’s 
authority that I am held in check ; in a few 
hours, or, at latest, to-morrow, he will be no 
more. But you must remember we live at a 
great distance from Rome; who knows but the 
emperor’s disposition toward the Christians may 


330 


The African Fabiola. 


be changed ? He favored them for a long time ; 
he may have acted in a sudden ebullition of pas- 
sion, or to gain the good will of persons whom it 
was his interest to conciliate ; and who can tell 
but that he has already returned to his former 
and more lenient policy ? You know nothing 
about princes ; they are swayed only by egotism ; 
they give it a more specious name, but in the 
end it is invariably self-interest. Their only aim 
is to secure to themselves the possession of a 
throne obtained by intrigue. * The interests of 
religion and the good of the state — forsooth ! 
These are but empty, high-sounding words that 
dupe the common herd, but mean quite another 
_ thing in the bellowing mouths that constantly re- 
peat them I ” 

“ For all that, it is no less a fact that our 
august emperor has spoken those words ; you 
hold in your hands an unrevoked edict of recent 
date. What can you have to fear if you publish 
and enforce it? On the contrary, you will have a 
stronger claim on the emperor’s favor, and, mark 
me well, you cannot fail to become successor to 
old Firmilian.” 

“ I lay no claim to hypocritical disinterested- 
ness ; since my arrival at this post I have been 
expecting promotion and have claims to the gov- 
ernorship of the province. The position is an 
honorable one ; your city ranks next to Home in 
importance ; it is also lucrative, and that is a very 
important consideration and an excellent reason 


The Two Interviews. 


331 


why I should not like to make a mistake. If I 
treat the Christians with severity there can be 
no doubt, after the events of yesterday, that the 
senate will oppose me. It may bring an action 
against me at Rome as an enemy to the public 
peace, nay, even as an enemy to the emperor, for 
bringing his name and government into disfavor 
by my harshness and cruelty; and who knows but 
my head should be the forfeit I should have to 
pay for my officiousness, in case it should be 
adroitly forged into a crime ? When princes de- 
mand blood they must not be obeyed too readily, 
unless people want to become the victims of their 
inconstancy or remorse. Were he Nero I should 
not hesitate an instant ; before this I would have 
had all the Christians of Carthage in prison. But 
you can rest assured that, with a man like Seve- 
rus, too great haste is very dangerous.” 

“ And still, in other provinces there was none 
of this hesitancy, yet, so far as I am aware, not 
a single governor has been reprimanded.” 

(i That may happen later ; besides, elsewhere 
the governor’s authority is not counterbalanced 
by the arrogant pretensions of an all-powerful 
senate, backed by a large and faithful army.” 

“ I see how the matter stands, Hilarian : you 
are afraid of compromising yourself. It appears 
to me, however, that there is a very simple way 
of shirking all responsibility, even in the very 
improbable supposition that the emperor should 
happen to change his mind or his policy.” 


332 


The African FaMola. 


“ And what may that be, may I ask ? ” 

“ Firmilian is still alive. In his name and 
under his seal issue orders at once for the arrest 
of a certain number of the most influential mem- 
bers of this abominable sect. In case of demur or 
protest from the senate you can say it is only a 
precautionary measure imperatively demanded by 
the present state of things and the agitation pro- 
duced by recent events in the city. The initia- 
tive having been taken, things will take their 
natural course, and you can wait and bide the 
issue.” 

As it will be observed, the artful old man never 
lost sight for a moment of the object he had in 
view ; he wanted the blood of the priest who had 
wounded his pride, and he essayed the same hy- 
pocritical part with the lieutenant-governor that 
had served him so effectually in the case of young 
Jubal. Hilarian fell the more readily into the 
snare from the fact that he yearned to be re- 
venged and sought to strike terror into the Chris- 
tians, so that they should have neither time nor 
opportunity to turn him into ridicule. 

“Well, you may be right,” said he to Olym- 
pius ; “ let us try it. You know the Christians 
of Carthage better than I do ; give me the names 
of some of them, of those whom you judge to be 
the most dangerous- on the score of influence 
with the sect or zeal for the spread of the new 
doctrines. Would it not be best to begin by the 
one they call bishop ? ” 


The Two Intermews. 


338 


“ Optatus is so old that he is almost harmless. 
Notwithstanding his title and office he has very 
little influence. In his case we need be in no 
hurry. Optatus is thrown into insignificance by 
the towering genius and restless activity of one 
of his followers. This man is looked upon as an 
oracle by the Christians ; he is the greatest cham- 
pion of their cause and the most redoubtable 
enemy the gods ever won from them by the new 
sect. Since his desertion from among us this 
man, in his implacable hatred, has never ceased 
to use all his eloquence and efforts in the cause 
of error. lie leads astray entire families by his 
keen and powerful arguments ; in his pride he 
has vowed to pull down and destroy every one 
of our altars in Carthage. This is the fanatic 
that caused the mutilation of Juno’s statue, and 
made her temple to-day a heap of smouldering 
ruins. It was his violent harangue that intimi- 
dated the senate yesterday and brought about 
such a change that it would seem almost the 
work of magic. You will cover yourself with 
glory, Hilarian, if you rid religion and the em- 
pire of this hated monster ; you will become the 
benefactor of the gods and of the Caesars. Only 
smite his head, and the blow shall fall on and be 
felt by the entire body. You know the man ; 
his name is Tertullian.” 

“I pledge myself, then, that before the day 
dies Tertullian shall be in chains. But we must 
find him companions ; a single victim would not 


334 


The African Fabiola. 


be in keeping with the tardy zeal of our dying 
governor. You must not forget that it is in his 
name I act, and it is necessary that he now make 
ample amends for years of connivance and inac- 
tivity.” 

“ I fully agree with you, and, as you are so 
kind as to consult me, I would call your attention 
to a certain Saturninus, a great propagandist of the 
new tenets among slaves and the masses, emulat- 
ing, no doubt, among this class Tertullian’s ef- 
forts among the aristocracy and men of letters. 
Only a short time ago, by dint of promises and 
cunning, he succeeded in gaining over to his sect 
a number of mechanics employed on the docks. 
These tradesmen, joined in a secret and thorough- 
ly-organized alliance with a numerous band of 
slaves, must necessarily be a source of alarm and 
danger. At any day or moment they might, at 
the beck of their leader, fall upon us like wild 
beasts. This organization should be broken up 
before it is too late.” 

“ This is the first mention I have heard made 
of this Saturninus. But no matter ; he shall go 
to prison with Tertullian.” 

“ Secundulus is the friend and fellow-laborer 
of Saturninus ; ought he not share in the reward 
as he has shared in the labor ? ” 

“ It is nothing more than right that he should. 
But this makes only three, and that is altogether 
too few.” 

“Not so fast; there is a woman in Carthage 


The Two Intermews. 


335 


who is almost as haughty as Tertullian himself. 
Still young and very wealthy, she plumes herself 
on being able to despise the gods and turn them 
into ridicule. Being allied to all the patrician 
families infected by the poison of error, she has 
obtained such influence over all their female 
members that, by her advice, all the marriage- 
able ones have sworn to wed none but Christians. 
This, as you see, is a new plan to draw over the 
Hite of our young men. As she is an enthusias- 
tic admirer of Tertullian, she looks upon his will 
as the exponent of Heaven’s command; hence 
it is the firm conviction of everybody that both 
recent profanations were the work of this woman, 
and that she acted in obedience to the commands 
of her unscrupulous adviser. Both sacrileges were 
perpetrated,- at her instigation, by one of her 
slaves named Bevocatus ; the crime is deplored 
by the entire city and will inevitably draw down 
upon us the anger of the gods unless the guilty 
be severely and swiftly punished. This haugh- 
ty, impious, and sacrilegious woman would rich- 
ly deserve a thousand deaths, were they possi- 
ble.” 

“What is her name?” asked Hilarian, con- 
cealing his satisfaction. “From what I have 
heard among the people I have but little doubt 
that you mean Yivia, Jarbas’s young relict.” 

u Yes, your surmise is correct. And what is 
more, let me further inform you that this wo- 
man, in spite of the tears and entreaties of a 


336 


The A fi lean Fabiola. 

father, by dint of cajolery and bribes, influenced 
one of her young slaves — a child almost — to em- 
brace the Christian religion, and then gave the 
poor girl in marriage to this very Revocatus, 
the blind executor of all her caprices and com- 
mands. This unfortunate female slave is the 
daughter of old Sylvan us, of whom you have 
often heard me speak, no doubt, for his hard lot 
is known and pitied throughout the entire city. 
Let not the haughty Yivia with her two devoted 
slaves be divided from her dear master and 
guide ; let her follow him to prison and to death 
also!” 

“ But,” rejoined the lieutenant-governor, as- 
suming an air of hesitation and reluctance, “ Yi- 
via is the daughter of a senator.” 

“ It is well that the senate be taught to fear ; 
it will only be the more pliable and tractable.” 

“Hanno might enlist in his cause the sym- 
pathy of his peers, and in this case may there 
not be danger that the legislature might have 
recourse to extreme measures and use force to 
deprive us of our prisoners % ” 

“ I know Hanno. Upon learning the news of 
his daughter’s arrest he will fume and talk for a 
while ; that will be the end of it. Besides, I 
know for certain that he felt pained at Yivia’s 
change of religion, and frequently threatened her 
with his direct resentment if she would not re- 
tract. There is therefore nothing to be feared 
from him.” 


The Two Intermews . 


337 


<c To speak candidly, I should not be sorry to 
humble that woman’s pride. I know not why I 
feel such a deep dislike to her, and, as you assure 
me that I can do so without risk, I shall give im- 
mediate orders for her arrest and of the others 
whom you have named. I shall try them to- 
morrow, and then we shall see if they will all be 
as obstinate as that zany Angela, who had the 
mad folly to attempt to browbeat and resist me 
openly. I may add, however, that it is now com- 
monly believed that the attempt resulted in her 
eventually dying of fright.” 

Hilarian turned aside to hide his blushes, and 
even the old hypocrite himself could not wholly 
repress a smile of derision. Hereupon they both 
separated ; the lieutenant-governor betook him- 
self to prosecute his designs in the name and 
under the seal of his superior officer, While the 
pagan priest hurried to bear the good and wel- 
comed tidings to the old mountain camel-driver, 
as well as to gloat over the sweet prospect of 
soon enjoying a revenge so long and persistently 
sought after. “ The time is come at long last,” 
said he to himself ; “ we shall now see if his 
haughty mien will not quail before the judge and 
the executioners. Oh ! how happy I shall be at 
the sight of his blood and severed head. Tertul- 
lian ! Tertullian ! you shall find out before long 
that the High-priest of Carthage may not be 
bearded with impunity!” 

At about the same hour an old and a young 


338 


The African Fabiola. 


man some seventeen or eighteen years of age 
were leisurely sauntering together in a beautiful 
villa on the sea-shore. It was only a short time 
after sunrise ; the cloudless firmament gave pro- 
mise of a fine day ; the air was fragrant with, the 
sweet breath of morning; the birds, shaking the 
last dewdrops from their wings, seemed to be on 
the point of finishing their usual matin service to 
the God that gave them life* and food. The man 
whom we see drinking in all the fragrance and 
sunshine of the early morning is the fortunate 
owner of this magnificent villa. Being a senator, 
rich in lands and slaves, caring little for politics, 
tired of the routs and pleasures of city life, he 
gave his whole attention to the care and embel- 
lishment of his favorite seat. His ambition was 
to die one day quietly and slip from the world’s 
stage without leaving a single trace behind. The 
youth who walks with him and seizes his arm 
from time to time, as if to ensure more marked 
attention, is called to occupy a more prominent 
part in the world. His name shall be great one 
day among men and shall be pronounced 'with 
respect and admiration from age to age. 

The wealthy senator is named Thascius Cypri- 
anus, and his young companion is called after 
him. 

“ Father,” impetuously cried the youth, 
“ what think you of the debate that we heard 
yesterday in the senate ? What is your opinion 
of the man who for a whole hour held the entire 


The Two Inter mews. 


339 


assembly so breathlessly spell-bound ? For my 
part I can think of nothing else ; all night I was 
not able to close my eyes, my mind was so full 
of him and his arguments.” 

u For a long time past, my son, Tertullian has 
given evidence of extraordinary ability. When 
he taught rhetoric, students flocked to hear him 
from every side, and as a forensic orator he had 
no equal. Since he embraced the new religion 
he is said to have written marvellous pages in its 
defence ; at Carthage, and even on the other side 
of the Mediterranean, he is looked upon as the 
oracle of his party.” 

“ Father, your praises are too tame ; that man 
is the glory of mankind. What sublimity of 
genius ! What nobility and grandeur of character ! 
What irresistible eloquence ! What loftiness of 
thought ! To my mind the so-vaunted Demos- 
thenes and Cicero dwindle into insignificance 
when compared to him ; even the sublime, the 
divine Homer pales before him ! ” 

“ Perhaps you exaggerate, my son. Admira- 
tion is near akin to enthusiasm, and enthusiasm 
magnifies everything.” 

u I know it ; and that is why I am so mis- 
trustful of myself and so afraid of being carried 
away by my imagination ; besides, my sympathies 
are not on the side of the cause that he advo- 
cated. Nevertheless, his eloquence gradually 
mastered and swept me on in spite of myself. 

I felt as if I could willingly fall at the feet of 


340 


The Af rican Fdbiola. 

that man and beg him to teach me to speak as he 
spoke — if, indeed, eloquence may be taught and 
acquired by study.” 

“ At any rate you have made a fair start, 
Cyprian ; although you are as yet only a strip- 
ling, you are spoken of in Carthage as a very 
clever student; only continue as you have al- 
ready done and you will one day become as great 
an orator as Tertullian.” 

“ WoiHd that you were a true prophet! But 
alas ! that can never be ; the gods have not given 
me such talent, although I would willingly give 
the brightest years of my life in exchange for it. 
Oh ! for one single day like yesterday for Ter- 
tullian. My happiness would be complete ! At 
the close of one such day I would willingly die, 
for I would be certain to live for ever in the 
memory of all future generations.” 

“ Well, enough on this subject, Cyprian. I 
presume your sole object in seeking this interview 
was not to extol the unquestionable genius of 
Tertullian. You have something else to say to 
me. Be not afraid; you know your father. 
Speak frankly.” 

“ You are right, father. Well, I wish to save 
Tertullian. I know that his life is in danger. 
Yesterday, as I was passing through the square 
around the senate, I heard the mob crying out 
against him and clamoring for his blood. There 
is a report that the Christians are about to be per- 
secuted on the strength of an imperial edict. If 


The Two Intermews. 


341 


such a thing should happen Tertullian would 
inevitably be one of the first victims. And, oh ! 
what a disgrace that would be to Carthage, what 
an irreparable loss to the whole world ! It would 
be like blotting out one of its brightest stars from 
the firmament.” 

“ But, Cyprian, how could you save his life if, 
notwithstanding the veto of the senate, the im- 
perial edict be enforced? Up to this we have 
done all in our power to protect the Christians, 
because, if the truth must be told, they are the 
most submissive and law-abiding citizens in the 
empire. The only objection that ever was or can 
be made against them is on the score of religion, 
and that is not our business, but theirs. It may 
be that we have endangered our lives by refusing 
yesterday to yield to the demands of the people. 
What more could we have done ? ” 

“I only ask you, father, to let me carry out 
my own plans in this matter. I am confident of 
success. Our old female slave, Jucunda, has been 
a Christian for a long time, as I recently found 
out from one of her companions. Just now Ju- 
cunda is laid up with a severe fit of sickness. I 
am told that it is usual among the Christians to 
visit each other in such cases, and that they inva- 
riably desire to see one of their priests whenever 
they are in danger of death. If you will permit 
me I will call on Tertullian, and will request 
him, on the part of poor Jucunda, to come hither 
immediately. You and I are the only persons in 


342 The African Fabiola. 

the villa that know him. He could easily re- 
main here with us until the persecution shall 
have blown over. I confess I would be very glad 
to avail myself of such an excellent opportunity 
of informing myself regarding the doctrines of 
this new religion.” 

“ Why, Cyprian, what do I hear? That you 
desire to save the life of a man whom you admire 
and believe to be guiltless I can well understand 
and fully approve, but to wish to examine a re- 
ligion that is said to be so full of mysteries is, in 
my opinion, entirely out of the question for a 
youth of your age.” 

“ Truth belongs to every age, and I desire to 
know the truth.” 

“That the Christian religion may have many 
excellent points I do not pretend to deny ; but 
why should you begin to doubt about that in 
which you were bred, and which was the religion 
of your ancestors and is still that of your coun- 
try?” 

“ Hitherto, I confess, it had never entered into 
my mind to examine if the gods we worship were 
really and truly gods. Since I heard Tertullian, 
however, that doubt has arisen, and I must needs 
satisfy it.” 

" My clfild, do not trouble yourself with such a 
bootless study. After all, is not our great Jove 
just as good as he whom they call Christ?” 

“If Tertullian is right, Jupiter is not worth 
one grain of the incense that is burned on his 


The Two Interviews . 


343 


altars, and it would be a positive disgrace to wor- 
ship him. But, on the other hand, what a grand, 
noble, and perfect figure does not Christ present 
as he was represented to us yesterday ! What 
innocence and holiness of life ! What sweetness 
and mildness in his speech ! What omnipotence in 
his works ! What charity and love in his sacri- 
fice ! Oh ! if ever the Deity did descend from his 
throne, if he ever did put on human flesh, it was 
thus, truly thus, that he must have appeared 
among men ! ” 

“ See, Cyprian, how your imagination is again 
running away with you ! Will you never correct 
yourself ? ” 

u Imagination ! the word is easily said. But 
Tertullian adduced incontrovertible facts — facts 
universally admitted by all our poets and histo- 
rians ; can they be denied 2 Are we not obliged 
to admit, father, that every assertion made by 
him regarding the gods was strictly true ? ” 

“ The main facts were, although he may have 
exaggerated somewhat ; poetry, as you are aware, 
does not lay claim to scrupulous precision, its 
object being less to instruct than to please.” 

“Let us prescind, if you will, from the inven- 
tions of poetry and fable ; they certainly are not 
very creditable to our gods ; but if Jupiter and 
the rest of them were born, lived, and died as 
common mortals did, was not Tertullian right in 
asserting that they were not gods, since eternity 
is a necessary attribute of the godhead ? ’’ 


344 


The African Fabiola. 


“I freely confess I never carried my examina- 
tion or thoughts so far; my invariable maxim 
was ever and always : Be good and honest ; that 
is enough.” 

“No, not for me at least ; I feel something 
in my soul that revolts at the thought of giving 
my homage and adoration to beings that have no 
right to them. My soul requires such a God as 
the Omnipotent Being so well described by Ter- 
t ullian — a God self-existing before time or crea- 
tion began ; absolute creator of the myriad things 
and worlds of which we see but a fraction ; 
supreme lord and master over all his creatures, 
and from his lofty throne moderating and guid- 
ing the whole with paternal love and care.” 

“Are you, too, thinking of joining the new 
faith ? Could you give me such pain ? ” 

“ I do not say that I will become a Christian ; 
nevertheless, it must be acknowledged that it 
forms a code of belief and morality that has no 
equal, and that its votaries are virtuous and 
charitable. Were you not as much surprised as 
I was at the wonderful picture presented to our 
minds by Tertullian yesterday ? What extraor- 
dinary men must those be who know no distinc- 
tion of nation or caste, and whose love embraces 
the whole world ! But by what process can a 
person be born again so as to lead a new life and 
become quite another man even while preserv- 
ing the same body ? How break through old 
and cherished habits in a day, turn from luxury 


The Two Intermews. 


345 


to abstemiousness, cast aside gold and purple to 
wear coarse and bumble garments? Oh! why 
was I not born a Christian? Perchance I ex- 
aggerate the difficulty of the change. Tertullian 
will instruct me ; for I am resolved to question 
and confer with him. But above and below all 
I will save this great man ; to-morrow it may be 
too late, and if any mishap should befall him I 
would never forgive myself.” 

“You are no longer a child, Cyprian, do as 
you please ; but I am very much afraid you will 
one day rue this hasty zeal.” 

u O dear father ! thanks, thanks.” 

The young man embraced him with transports 
of joy and gratitude. In a short time he was 
hastening to Carthage in his splendid chariot. 
Having arrived at Tertullian’s humble abode, he 
made known the object of his visit. The priest 
made no delay ; a poor dying slave had a sacred 
right to his ministry ; moreover, the young man’s 
frankness and avowed desire for religious in- 
struction had at once produced a very favorable 
impression on Tertullian. He accompanied 
Cyprian therefore without loss of time. 

It is much to be regretted that among the 
numerous writings that have come down to us 
from the pens of both, no mention is made of 
what passed between them during the prolonged 
stay of Tertullian at the villa. It is highly pro- 
bable, nevertheless, that even then Cyprian be- 
came fully convinced of the truth of the Christian 


346 


The African Fabiola. 


religion, even though he had not sufficient courage 
to embrace it ; the fiery passions of youth had 
already tainted his heart, and so influenced him 
that, like the youth in the Gospel, he could not 
summon resolution enough to make the sacrifice. 
But the good seed had fallen on his soul and 
would not fail to fructify. The day shall come 
when the young patrician will generously re- 
solve to break the shameful bonds that bind 
him, and to be free from their thraldom ; Car- 
thage will call him her greatest and most illus- 
trious bishop ; the Church will honor him as one 
of her noblest martyrs and will enroll him in the 
exalted ranks of those whom she styles her doctors 
and fathers. 




CHAPTEK XXII. 

THE TRIAL. 

A few hours after Tertullian’s departure for 
Cyprian’s villa the great city of Carthage was 
thrown into the most violent commotion. The 
edict of persecution had been formally published 
and proclaimed. The implacable hatred of old 
Sylvanus gave him a certain right to be one of 
the heralds of the bloody tidings. He had the 
satisfaction of being appointed to placard the de- 
cree on the doors of the senate. It was hailed 
with wild shouts of joy from the crowd of slaves 
that blindly followed him in all his movements. 
A large body of troops were detailed to scour 
the city ; these burst into the houses of the Chris- 
tians, and dragged away in chains all those whose 
names were* inscribed on a list that bore the offi- 
cial stamp of the governor. It is hardly neces- 
sary to state that the tender-hearted Pudens had 
not been appointed to the command this time ; 
care had been taken to select a tribune of re- 
markable sternness of character, and one who 
had made himself conspicuous for his detestation 
of the Christians. 

347 



348 The African Fabiola * 

By one of those sudden changes that so fre- 
quently come over men who are actuated by 
impulse and passion, Ililarian determined to 
strike a blow that would effectually intimidate 
the senate, and would make it appear as if he set 
at naught their opposition to the adoption of 
violent measures. Accordingly, in addition to 
the names supplied by the high-priest, he ordered 
the arrest of a great number of persons without 
distinction of rank or sex. Their names are 
written in their blood in the Book of Life, but are 
lost to us, with the exception of those of Jucun- 
dus, Artaxis, and Quintus, mentioned by Saturus 
in his account of a vision seen by him a short 
time previous to his martyrdom. Had it not been 
for the authentic Acts, which happily are still 
extant, and which describe the bloody tragedy 
that then took place, we should never have 
known that, during the few days which elapsed 
between the publication of the edict and the 
death of Vivia, a whole host of martyrs had glo- 
riously died for the faith in Carthage. 

It was a harrowing sight to see the unhappy 
Christians dragged in chains through the streets 
and squares of the city, buffeted by the rude sol- 
diery, maltreated by a frenzied mob that cursed 
and jeered and cast mud upon them. Bound 
hand in hand, the noble Yivia and Felicitas 
were as badly treated as the rest ; regardless of 
their youth and of the helpless state of Felicitas, 
who was about to become a mother, their veils 


The Trial. 


349 


were torn away and they were hurried forward 
with blows and kicks, so that they were dragged 
rather than led along the streets. 

The martyrs — for such they may now be called 
— appeared not to heed their barbarous treat- 
ment. Serenity and joy beamed on their coun- 
tenances ; they opened not their mouths, save to 
thank God for having made them worthy to suf- 
fer for his name, or to encourage each other to 
give steadfast testimony to him before men. Both 
women felt a momentary confusion at being thus 
rudely exposed to the insolent gaze of the sol- 
diery; but they speedily recovered self-posses- 
sion, and, with downcast eyes, continued to pray 
with as much recollection and fervor as if they 
were hidden in the retirement of their oratory. 
By a last remnant of shame Olympus kept aloof 
from the crowd ; but he watched anxiously from 
a hiding-place on the roof of his house for the 
approach of the confessors. He gloated over the 
thought that he should soon see the object of his 
sworn hatred manacled, trembling with fear, and 
pale with terror. The instant he saw the crowd 
coming his eyes sought at once for the tall form 
of Tertullian ; but oh ! the cruel disappoint- 
ment ! Tertullian was not among the prisoners, 
and then came the bitter news that he had left the 
city in the company of an unknown young man, 
and had gone with him nobody knew whither. 
This came upon the unhappy old man like a 
thunder-clap, and almost deprived him of life. 


350 The African Fabiola . 

The city prison was filled with malefactors of 
every grade — fugitive slaves, thieves, and mur- 
derers — condemned to the mines^ and now await- 
ing the execution of their sentence. From this 
circumstance the Christians had to be confined in 
a separate building, where they had the twofold 
advantage of enjoying plenty of air and light. 
The priest Saturus lost no time in visiting the 
prisoners. His first act was to embrace his bro- 
ther Saturninus and bind the wounds and bruises 
received by the latter on his way to the prison. 

Saturus’s name had not been put on the list, 
either because he had been overlooked or had 
been reserved for a future occasion. This zeal- 
ous priest had spent twenty years of his life in 
converting pagans and instructing the catechu- 
mens. No sooner had he been apprised of the 
fact that some of those whom he had been pre- 
paring for baptism had been arrested for the faith 
than he hastened to bear them company in prison, 
the better to prepare them for the approaching 
conflict. 

Saturus was greatly loved and esteemed in the 
Carthaginian church. His piety, amiability, gen- 
tleness, and kindly disposition made him an uni- 
versal favorite with all, and hence his appearance 
among the prisoners was the signal for much 
congratulation and rejoicing. They all pressed 
around him to enquire how it had come to pass 
that he was not brought with them to prison. 
“ I was not worthy of that honor,” was the an- 


The Trial. 


351 


swer of the humble priest, who feared the very 
shadow of vainglory, and who envied the mar- 
tyrs what they had already had to suffer for the 
name of Christ. It was only afterwards they 
discovered that he had voluntarily surrendered 
himself to the tribune in charge of the prisoners. 

From the beautiful histories called the “ Acts 
of the Martyrs,” which used to be read publicly 
in the olden Church, we learn that, when in 
prison, the confessors of the faith used to make 
the dungeon vocal with the accents of prayer and 
psalmody; these strains not only pleased God 
and his angels in heaven, but filled men with such 
amazement and admiration that not unfrequently 
the very jailers became converts. Our glorious 
confessors did not fail in the observance of this 
sacred custom of the ancient martyrs ; having 
given each other the kiss of peace, they all fell on 
their knees and joined in prayer with the priest 
Saturus. 

Their devotions were interrupted by half- 
smothered moans ; Secundulus, with his eyes fixed 
on heaven, lay motionless and dead. Being of a 
weak and delicate constitution, he had succumb- 
ed under the cruel treatment received on his way 
to prison. Upon opening his tunic it was found 
that he had been mortally wounded ; his breast 
was all bruised and bleeding from the blow of a 
heavy stone flung by some vigorous hand. 

The martyrs wished to honor and give decent 
burial to the body in the garden that surrounded 


352 


The African Fabiola, 


their temporary prison. The savage tribune in 
charge sternly refused them this consolation. In 
vain did Vi via proffer him a well-filled purse 
that she happened to have on her person at the 
time of her arrest. Her offer was rudely reject- 
ed ; the dead body was hurried away with orders 
to have it cast into the sea. Soon after the con- 
fessors were led to the tribunal of the lieutenant- 
governor ; the mob, more violent than ever, fol- 
lowed after with renewed savageness and vio- 
lence. 

The examination opened with Saturninus. 
With head all bruised and covered with blood, he 
made answer that he was a Christian and was 
ready to suffer and die sooner than sacrifice to 
gods that were nothing but foul demons. All 
the rest made the same declaration. Saturus, 
although his name was not on the list of the ac- 
cused, now came forward, and, raising his voice, 
exclaimed : “ I also am a Christian and will not 
sacrifice to your so-called gods.” ITilarian was 
dumfounded; he could not understand how a 
man could voluntarily surrender himself and be 
willing to suffer the most cruel tortures and even 
death. Vivia was reserved for the last, less on ac- 
count of her distinguished rank than for the pur- 
pose of intimidating and humbling her by a pro- 
tracted and public trial. 

“ Well, and what may your name be ?” 

“You know my name,” answered the noble 
patrician, “and consequently the question is use- 


The Trial. 


353 


less. I shall answer the question, however, not to 
glorify myself, but that all who are present may 
know who I am. My name is Yivia Perpetua ; 
I am the daughter of Senator Hanno, and, since 
a few days past, the widow of the brave Jarbas 
who died a martyr for his and my faith.” 

u You acknowledge, consequently, that you are 
a Christian ? ” 

“ I am a Christian, and, by God’s grace, I will 
remain one as long as I live.” 

“ But are you not aware that our august empe- 
rors have, by solemn edicts, proscribed that wick- 
ed superstition, and have commanded uniformity 
of worship throughout the whole empire ? Their 
will and the laws require that you adore the 
gods.” 

* 4 There is but one only God, who made heaven 
and earth and all things therein, and one Christ, 
his only Son, into whose kingdom I most ardent- 
ly desire to enter. Speak not of your gods to 
me; 1 blush at the thought of having ever 
worshipped them.” 

44 Our gods are great and immortal, while the 
Christ you insanely follow was only a contempti- 
ble impostor, who was deservedly condemned to 
die the death of a slave.” 

“ Blaspheme not what you do not understand. 
Christ was condemned by wicked men who knew 
him not. He, who by a single word opened the 
tomb and brought the dead to life, could have 
come down unscathed from the cross and cov- 


354 


The African Fabiola . 


ered his enemies with confusion ; but, in his 
charity, he was pleased to lay down his life 
for our salvation. He it is whom I adore, as I 
have already told you, and I will adore no 
other.” 

“ Yivia, you, like the rest of your sect, have 
permitted yourself to be led astray by false teach- 
ing.” 

“ God is truth. He deceives not the innocent 
and confiding soul that sincerely seeks him.” 

“ In good sooth, if you were to be believed, it 
would seem as if you heard a voice from heaven ; 
I recognize in this the usual fanaticism and folly 
of all your co-religionists.” 

“1 look upon myself as unworthy of being 
addressed by the Lord my God, for I am one of 
the last of his servants, one who has only to-day 
begun to be really and truly a disciple of Jesus 
Christ. But I know that God has spoken by his 
prophets, and, in these latter days, by his only 
beloved Son himself ; on his word my faith is 
founded.” 

“ Say rather that you have blindly given ear 
to the teaching of a certain Tertullian, whom 
yon look upon as the oracle of your sect.” 

“ Before I knew or heard him I was a Chris- 
tian. He simply comfirmed me in my belief.” 

“ He would have done far better had he unde- 
ceived you ; but he basely plunged you into 
deeper error, and now, like the coward that he is, 
he abandons you in the hour of danger ; he should 


The Trial. 


355 


have been here had he not run to hide himself where 
he cannot be found the very moment he received 
intelligence of the stringent measures about to be 
enforced against his dupes and godless com- 
panions.” 

u Tertullian is no coward ; it is very evident 
you do not know him. He fears neither chains 
nor tortures. True, I know not what has become 
of him, but I do know and assert that he is in- 
capable of harboring the base sentiments attri- 
buted to him by you.” 

“ Let us say no more about this man ; he can- 
not escape me very long, at any rate. Do you 
persist in declaring yourself a Christian ? ” 

“ I have been taught not to tell a lie, even to 
save my 'life; yes, I am a Christian, and now 
more than ever I bless the God of goodness and 
charity for having called me to the inestimable 
light of his Gospel.” 

“You are a lady of high birth and refined 
education, Yivia, and you should reflect that this 
religion has hitherto won over only slaves and 
vulgar persons. Your family is one of the first 
in this city. Can you have the lamentable hardi- 
hood to disgrace your name and your own fa- 
ther ? ” 

“ Slaves and the poor should be the first in the 
Church of Jesus Christ ; of this our apostles have 
informed us, in order that the world should see 
clearly that it is the work of God’s power. The 
wise and the powerful ones of the earth will come 


356 


The A fi lean Fabiola. 


also in their turn, but that shall come to pass 
only when it shall have been made manifest that 
the Church had succeeded without them. Never- 
theless, you must know that, in Carthage as 
everywhere else, the cross has obtained a footing 
among the most distinguished and noblest fami- 
lies. You remind me of my birth and my father ; 
you say I dishonor my name, while I hold that I 
add to it more lustre than it ever received from 
all the noble deeds of my ancestors. To know 
the true God, and, if needs be, to die for him, is 
the climax of all glory and my sole ambition.” 

t( Yivia, I see I have not been misinformed ; 
you are eaten up with pride, and to such a degree 
does it go that, even in chains, you affect an air 
of haughtiness and bravado.” 

“ Before I knew the degradations and humilia- 
tions to which Christ subjected himself for love 
of me 1 was the willing dupe of vanity and 
pride ; now I glory only in the Lord my God, 
and hence it is that I prize these chains more 
than jewels and gold.” 

A truce to all this folly ; you have youth, 
education, rank, and wealth, and you may live 
happy and respected in the world. Your hus- 
band’s death has made you free once more ; who 
can hinder you from wedding as you please 
among the most eligible of the nobility ? ” 

“ The goods and honors of this world have no 
longer any value for me, and my affections shall 
never again be given to any creature. But what 


The Trial. 


357 


boots all these questions ? I am a Christian, and 
nothing can induce me to renounce my faith.” 

“ That remains to be proved ; in the agony of 
torture and in the presence of grim death you 
will speak very differently and will cry to me 
for mercy ; but it will then be too late.” 

“ You know not God’s power and how he can 
give strength and courage to the hearts of his 
servants. Put me to the torture, if you will ; 
condemn me to the most painful death. I am 
ready. My last word shall be but a repetition of 
what I have hitherto so often declared : 1 am a 
Christian ! ” 

The lieutenant-governor was pale with anger ; 
for the second time did he find himself overcome 
by a woman. As he was about to give the signal 
to bring forward the instruments of torture, an 
old man was seen making his way through the 
spectators ; his hoary locks fell dishevelled upon 
his shoulders, his eyes were haggard, and his 
whole countenance stamped with grief ; he held 
an infant in his arms. 

“ Vivia,” cried he, as he fell sobbing on his 
knees, “O my darling Yivia! in the name of 
your own child, have pity on your unhappy 
father. If I have always been to you a loving 
father and doated on you as the most idolized of 
all the family, spare, oh ! spare me this disgrace. 
Forget not those who call you by the sweet name 
of sister. Remember the mother whom your death 
will leave without proper consolation. Behold 


358 The African Fabiola. 

your own infant ! He stretches out his little arms 
to you for mercy and iife — for without you he 
cannot live. Forget, I conjure you, this horrible 
pride that would fain undo us all ; such a death 
as this would inevitably brand us with disgrace, 
so that we could never more show ourselves in 
public.” 

The guards, and even the very executioners, 
were moved to compassion. As Yivia wiped 
away her tears and convulsively clasped her in- 
fant to her bosom, Hilarian and his satellites 
were so fully convinced that she would yield that 
they began to prepare the incense which she was 
to burn in proof of her having renounced Christ ; 
but strength from on high sustained the noble 
martyr. As a daughter and as a mother her 
heart was moved to its depths, and who would 
dare to impute this to her as a crime or to 
accuse her of weakness ? As a Christian, how- 
ever, her great faith wavered not for an instant. 

“Father,” answered she, “the Lord is my wit- 
ness that I love you tenderly ; nor do I forget 
how you watched over me always and singled 
me out as the object of your predilection. My 
mother and my little brothers know how deeply 
I love them. Heed I say how I yearn for, and 
how my heart-strings cling to, this helpless babe' 
that to-morrow shall have no longer a mother ? 
But my religion commands me to put God before 
all that I cherish here below, and I shall never 
betray my faith. He for whom I suffer will take 


The Trial. 


359 


care of you ; lie will console my mother and my 
brothers. In his hands I place the child that he 
gave me ; he will be his protector and father.” 

u O Yivia ! let me entreat you not to forget 
what you owe to yourself and to your family. 
What matters it of what faith you be. It is all the 
same, provided you be good and virtuous. In 
our religion, in the religion of your youth, are 
there not many women and matrons both chaste 
and deservedly honored ? For pity’s sake ! do but 
say that you are not a Christian — you are requir- 
ed to do nothing more.” 

“ Say, father, can that precious vase before 
you, brought hither, I presume, to make me an 
idolater, change its name ? ” * 

“Assuredly it cannot.” 

“ Neither can I style myself other than what 
I am — namely, a Christian. Far from being 
ashamed of the name, I glory in it.” 

“ Cruel daughter, heartless mother, die, then, if 
you will ! But I here renounce and give you a 
father’s curse.” 

In his rage and blind fury the old man rushed 
upon Yivia, as if to tear her in pieces. Rage gave 
way to shame ; bursting into tears, he again flung 
himself on his knees before her as he cried : 

“ Yivia, pardon an unhappy father who can 
no longer call you by the name of child ! Excess 
of grief made me forget myself.” 


*See the Acts of St. Perpetua. 


360 The African Fabiola. 

He wildly kissed the hands stretched out to 
raise him. 

“ Yivia,” exclaimed Hilarian, “ can you resist 
the entreaties and tears of your venerable and 
honored father, the pleading helplessness of this 
child whom your obstinacy will deprive of its 
mother ? Sacrifice to the- gods and for the pros- 
perity of our emperors.” 

“lama Christian ; I will not sacrifice ! ” 

“Death to the wicked Yivia ! ” cried a specta- 
tor, the savage, implacable Sylvan us. 

“ The Christians to the lions !” shouted the mob. 

“ Blessed be God and his only Son, Christ 
Jesus ! ” answered the brave martyrs. 

Meantime Hanno continued his entreaties, hop- 
ing his daughter would yield through compassion 
for his grief and pity for her infant. Hilarian 
began to lose patience and made a sign to an 
usher to take him away. As usual, the officer 
proceeded to obey by striking Hanno with his 
rod. Yivia noted the act and trembled from 
head to foot at the insult done to her aged father. 
Tears started to her eyes. She was ready to fall 
on his neck when Hilarian cried out : 

“ Guards, take back the accused to prison and 
let them be treated as state criminals ! ” 

The confessors withdrew with joy on their coun- 
tenances and acts of thanksgiving on their lips. 
They had given public testimony to God and to 
his Christ. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE BAPTISM. 

The aged Firmilian breathed liis last the night 
after sentence was passed on the confessors, and 
Hilarian became governor of the province with- 
out more ado, as the emperor had promised him 
the position previous to his departure for Africa. 
This gave the new governor full power and con- 
fidence ; but as he mistrusted the senate, he im- 
mediately despatched a message to Rome to inform 
Severus of what had taken place. As it may be 
easily imagined, he took good care to put forward 
his zeal for religion and the empire, his solicitude 
and determination in enforcing the edicts, despite 
the opposition of the very men who should have 
been the first to aid him in his efforts. But what 
he emphasized most was the danger that would 
arise if the Christians should be allowed to go on 
unchecked in committing overt acts of treason. 
The sacrilegious mutilation of Juno’s statue and 
the burning of her temple, of which he openly 
accused them, were facts which showed how bold 
they were becoming and how necessary it was to 
lose no time in putting them down. 

361 


362 


The African FaMola. 


In the belief that Tertullian bad escaped to 
some far-distant country, Olympius’s disappoint- 
ment and vexation permitted him to think of no- 
thing but the detested object of his undying 
hatred. Buried in the seclusion of his house, 
and refusing to see even his most intimate friends, 
he accused the gods of apathy to their own in- 
terests or incompetency to defend them. 

IJpon learning that the Lady Vivia had been 
cast into chains, insulted by the rabble, and drag- 
ged before Hilarian’s tribunal, Jubal flew into 
one of his usual fits of passion and rage. Equal- 
ly incensed against the high-priest who had so 
basely deceived him as ashamed of the ridiculous 
part he was made to play, he withdrew to a 
friend’s house in the country. 

The old herdsman, Sylvanus, brooded alone 
with glad anticipation over his near prospects of 
revenge. He looked calmly on the daughter he 
had once so loved, as she walked, chained to the 
woman he hated, to receive her death- sentence at 
the tribunal of the governor. She was a Chris- 
tian, and was , therefore , his child no longer; be- 
sides, she was the favorite of that Yi via for whose 
blood he thirsted. That ulcerated heart had 
room for nothing save fanaticism and hate ; all 
the kindly feelings of nature had died there long 
ago. 

Our brave confessors still remained in the 
abode to which they had been consigned until 
. they could be received into the public prison. 


The Baptism. 


363 


Heedless of their cruel treatment and the brutal- 
ity of their pagan and not unfrequently drunken 
guards, they spent all their time in prayer and in 
preparation for the glorious death that awaited 
them. Their meals were taken in common ; and 
whenever they were permitted to walk in the 
gardens around their prison-house, they either 
conversed about heaven and heavenly things, or 
read the “ Acts of the Martyrs,” brought thither 
by the priest Saturus. As for Yivia, she usually 
remained in-doors with Felicitas, for the delicate 
state of the latter kept her confined to the re- 
tirement of the prison. The two mutually en- 
couraged each other to remain steadfast in the 
faith ; yet this did not save the slave-girl from 
betraying occasional fits of despondency and 
weeping. 

“ Why are you so sad, and why do you weep ? ” 
said Yivia to her one day. “ Is your father the 
cause of your distress and tears % ” 

“ Of course, dear sister, I can never forget my 
poor unhappy father. The thought breaks my 
very heart. But God knows that I have borne 
my sorrow with resignation, especially since he 
gave me the sweet assurance that he will one day 
have mercy on him.” 

“Then why this great sadness ? You certain- 
ly cannot regret that you embraced our holy re- 
ligion.” 

u May God preserve me from such a wicked 
thought ! I daily return thanks to him for hav- 


364 


The African Fabiola. 


ing called me, and I bless jour name, since it was 
through you that I have the happiness of know- 
ing him.” 

“We are all so happy, and our hearts leap for 
joy at the thought that we are so soon to suffer 
for the love of Christ! You alone sigh and 
weep ! ” 

“And that is precisely the thought that wrings 
tears from my eyes ! ” 

“What do you mean? I do not understand 
Jou.” 

“ That I shall not have the happiness of suffer- 
ing and dying with you ; and at the thought of 
this separation I cannot help feeling an over- 
whelming sense of sadness.” 

“ But why should we be separated ? You need 
fear no weakness on my part, dear sister. I feel 
that God has given me strength to suffer and die 
for him. He will give a like courage to you also. 
Have you not invariably told me to put my trust 
in him ? ” 

“ I know that God is good. But I shall not die 
with or near you. At my last hour my eyes shall 
seek yours in vain ; the noble and pious Yivia 
shall have gone to heaven ere then, and her hap- 
less slave shall be left behind to weep and moan 
in solitude and abandonment.” 

“ What can put such thoughts into your mind ? 
Have you not, like all of us, borne testimony to 
the faith ? Has not the sweet promise of martyr- 
dom been given to you as well as to us ? ” 


The Baptism. 


365 


“ Yes ; but are you not aware that the law does 
not allow a pregnant woman to be put to .death 
until after her delivery ? Before that time shall 
have come for me you will be a conqueror, 
crowned in heaven.” 

“ Wholly wrapped up in my own happiness, I 
never gave that a thought ; and, dear Felicitas, 
you never brought it to my mind.” 

“I was afraid to sadden you by making you 
think of your own absent babe.” 

“God gave me the consolation of seeing and 
embracing him two days ago, as you know. My 
mother received permission to visit me, and took 
that opportunity to bring him to me. You need 
have no fear of reminding me of my darling boy. 
I hope he will be restored to me before long ; 
nevertheless, if God requires that I make him the 
sacrifice of my child, may his holy will be done ! ” 

“ I admire your courage, and I feel brave when 
I am near you. But when I shall be alone, who 
will sustain me ? ” 

“ God will ; so keep up your courage. Besides, 
unless I have been misinformed, our execution, 
or rather our triumph, is to be delayed until the 
celebration of the games ordered by the emperor 
in honor of his son’s elevation to the throne ; your 
delivery may happen previous to that time.” 

“ The celebration you speak of is to take place 
in a few days, while my delivery will not at least 
for another month.” 

“ The Lord is all-powerful ; we will pray to 


366 


The African Fabiola. 


him, Felicitas, and I feel confident he will hear 
us. No, no, dear sister, we shall not be separat- 
ed. The same day will witness our regeneration 
by baptism, and the same day shall also date our 
entrance into heaven.” 

“ It is God himself that puts these sweet assur- 
ances on your lips. O Yivia ! how your words 
give me courage.” 

And the two women knelt and prayed long 
and fervently together. 

The captain of the guards was, it will be re- 
membered, impervious to every feeling of kind- 
ness and compassion. For the first few days, 
therefore, he did more than carry out the orders 
of the governor : he treated the martyrs with ex- 
cessive cruelty. But the invariable mildness and 
patience with which his savage treatment was al- 
ways met resulted in producing a marked change 
in his bearing and manner. He saw so much 
harmony among them, such decorum in conduct 
and speech, such calmness, or rather such cheer- 
fulness, in the very presence of the most frightful 
torments and death. All their words and actions 
bore the impress of such deep earnestness and sin- 
cerity. His old prejudices began to be shaken, 
his hatred to grow less, and his severity to relax ; 
still, he dared not protect them openly from the 
brutality of the soldiers. 

The priest Saturus took advantage of these 
happy dispositions. Two deacons had succeeded 
in gaining admission to the prison; they brought 


The Baptism. 


367 


from the bishop chrism for the baptism of the 
catechumens, together with a chalice and an altar- 
stone for the celebration of the Sacred Mysteries. 
As Yivia and Felicitas ardently desired to be 
baptized previous to their second appearance be- 
fore the governor’s tribunal, they had been pri- 
vately prepared for the grace of the sacrament. 
They were also to receive the Body and Blood of 
the Christ whom they had so generously confessed. 

In the dead of night, when the guards were 
asleep and everything quiet, the confessors noise- 
lessly crept to a room where Saturus was awaiting 
them. An altar had been prepared ; it was as 
poor and as rough as the crib that received the 
Infant Saviour. It was simply a plank raised on 
four piles of stones by way of props, with Vi- 
via’s and Felicitas’s veils for altar-cloths. The 
two dingy bronze lamps that lit the prison now 
served to light up the altar. The two catechumens 
knelt at the door and prayed fervently. 

In the first centuries the Church wisely requir- 
ed a long and severe probation previous to bap- 
tism. This was because at that time the name 
of Christian was synonymous with proscription 
and death ; it was necessary, therefore, to test the 
faith and courage of the candidates, and to guard 
against the admission of persons who might de- 
mand baptism under evanescent and momentary 
impulses and might fall away from the faith in 
the hour of trial. Where some of the members 
of a family were Christian and had given proof 


368 The A frican Fabiola . 

of fidelity to the faith, as well as in the case of 
infants, these precautions were deemed unneces- 
sary; but otherwise, whenever a pagan candidate 
presented himself for baptism, the bishop put him 
on trial for a longer or shorter period, according 
to circumstances. In the first place, he had to be 
instructed, and, as a rule, this had to be done pri- 
vately ; then came the far more tedious task of 
disabusing him of all the vain superstitions in 
which he had been brought up, of uprooting all 
the habits of self-indulgence and pleasure that 
formed the staple of pagan life ; after that he had 
to be taught to cultivate a taste for the pure, the 
noble, the spiritual, and the supernatural — things 
altogether at variance with his former tastes and 
habits, and equally distasteful to his pride and 
passions, which had hitherto known neither dic- 
tation nor restraint. It was requisite also that 
the candidate should give proof that he could and 
would brave the resentment and opposition of 
his family, that he would be ready to make the 
sacrifice of all his worldly goods, to become an 
exile from home and country, to be buried alive 
in the mines, to bear the rack, the dungeon, and 
death — the usual termination of the Christian’s 
career in those times of bloody persecution. If 
the Church, always guided by the Spirit of God, 
had not followed this rule of prudent deliberation 
and delay, every day of her life would have been 
saddened by numberless apostasies from her fold 
and the faith. 


The Baptism. 


369 


This disciplinary course had been observed in 
the case of Yivia and Felicitas. They, too, had 
to prepare themselves for baptism by prayer, rig- 
orous fasts, and the constant practice of all the 
Christian virtues. The bishop had appointed the 
approaching Easter for their reception into the 
Church, tor at that time baptism was solemnly 
administered only on that day and the Feast of 
Pentecost. But, a3 they might be condemned 
and put to death at any moment, the bishop had 
authorized Saturus to shorten their probation and 
baptize them in prison. 

Our readers are aware that, in those times, 
the ordinary method observed in the administra- 
tion of baptism was immersion, thrice repeated 
in honor of the Blessed Trinity. The deacons 
then put a white garment on the newly-baptized 
person, and this dress was to be worn for the 
next eight days. This custom is still observed in 
some churches of the East, notwithstanding the 
fact that they have been separated by heresy or 
schism from the Roman Catholic Church for 
more than twelve centuries. In some ancient 
churches in the West are still to be seen stone 
steps leading to cisterns or wells ; these were the 
baptisteries of former times. But in cases of 
sickness, imprisonment, or when the churches 
were closed in times of persecution, baptism was 
administered by infusion , with the exorcisms 
and prayers still in use in our own day. 

Previous to commencing the Holy Mysteries 


370 


The African Fabiola . 


Saturus approached the catechumens and asked 
them what they sought. 

u We desire,” they answered, “to be received by 
baptism into the communion of Christ’s servants.” 

“ You believe in him ; you have given public 
testimony to the faith. You have courageously 
braved insults and injuries, and in a few days you 
will be summoned to seal with your blood the 
testimony you have already given. By what 
deeds and practices have you endeavored to pre- 
pare yourselves for the due reception of the grace 
you demand ? ” 

“ Good father,” immediately answered Yivia, 
Ct and you all who have long edified the Church 
of Carthage by your exemplary lives, bear with 
me in your charity. The prayers and self-sacri- 
fices of one of my mother’s pious slaves have 
brought me to the knowledge of the true God. 
But, alas ! even while I made profession of him 
and his law, I long refused to give him my heart. 
I was proud, haughty, and a slave to vanity and 
my own ease ; my whole life was a ceaseless 
round of pleasure and vain display that was a 
scandal to others and a mockery of the example 
and poverty of Jesus Christ, my Saviour. I de- 
nied myself no indulgence or gratification, blind- 
ly alleging in defence or extenuation of my con- 
duct that I acted only in accordance with the 
requirements of my rank and position. I was 
the cause of much annoyance to the fatherly 
heart of our zealous bishop ; I was a scandal to 


The Baptism. 


371 


the Church of Carthage, and cost my mother 
many bitter tears. The priest Tertullian was the 
instrument employed by Almighty God to de- 
liver me from my deplorable delusion and apathy. 
I sincerely deplore my past folly and crimes. I 
have long and secretly prayed God to forgive 
me, and I again implore his pardon in your 
presence ; I ask yours also, holy confessors ; 
take pity on a poor sinner ; do not cast her off 
on account of her sins ; imitate the goodness of 
that God who, in his mercy, has been pleased to 
associate me* with you in your sufferings and 
chains. This I beg of yon in the name of Christ, 
who died for the salvation of sinners. 

“ Unlike me, this young woman has no painful 
declarations to make or pardon to ask of your 
charity. She was always mild, humble, and ir- 
reproachable ; ever since she became a Christian 
I have seen nothing in her but eminent piety 
and marvellous perfection. Like all the saints, 
God has purified her by making her pass through 
the crucible of great suffering. For over seven 
years she has borne a long martyrdom from the 
anger and malediction of a father whom she loves, 
but who has renounced and hates her because she 
became a Christian. For seven long years she 
has borne her sad lot without a murmur, and has 
constantly prayed and wept and offered herself 
as a sacrifice for her hard-hearted and cruel pa- 
rent. Felicitas is indeed a saint !” 

“ Yivia’s great charity and affection for me has 


372 


The A f? ican Fabiola. 


made her blind to my faults,” said the slave. 

“ Alas ! she is sadly mistaken. Until I was fif- 
teen years of age I adored vain idols, I ignored 
and blasphemed the true God. Up to the present 
I have done nothing that could redound to his 
honor or glory. Still, his mercy is infinite, since 
he has deigned to invite me to suffer for his name. 
Oh ! how good is God to have thus condescended 
to bestow a glance of his merciful eye on the most 
abject of all his creatures.” 

So saying she buried her face in the dust. Hu- 
mility has a modesty and a noble sort of confu- 
sion all its own. 

“ Arise, daughter,” said the priest. “Return 
thanks to God, the fountain of all virtue as well 
as of all light, and to his Son Jesus, the author^ 
and finisher of our faith. Blessed are you be- 
cause you have believed, but more blessed still 
because you have rendered your life conformable 
to your belief ; to God alone be all the glory ! As 
for you, Yivia, the humble avowal made by you 
in the presence of your brethren has found accep- 
tance in the sight of the Lord. Be of good cheer ; 
the Christ in whom you believe and whom you 
have confessed before men pardons you all your 
sins ; the Church forgets and forgives } t ou what- 
ever sorrow you may have momentarily caused 
her ; and your pious mother, consoled by your 
generous sacrifice, has only one wish — to see you 
persevere to the end.” 

‘ ‘ May the God of all goodness be praised and 


The Baptism. 


373 


blessed ! ” exclaimed Yivia, as she raised her 
streaming eyes to heaven. 

The priest now proceeded to repeat the prayers 
prescribed by the Church and to sign the cate- 
chumens with the hallowed sign of the cross. In 
the name of the three Persons of the Blessed Tri- 
nity he commanded the spirits of darkness to de- 
part for ever from those who were now marked 
with the sign of salvation and become the heri- 
tage of Jesus Christ. Then, upon a signal made 
by Saturus, both the young women advanced and 
knelt near the altar. 

“Let us lose not a moment,” said the priest ; 
“ the hour for the holy sacrifice is at hand. Yi- 
via and Felicitas, in the presence of God and his 
angels, who will record your promises in heaven, 
and in the presence of your brethren here present 
in chains for Jesus Christ, do you solemnly 
pledge yourselves to adore Him alone, and to 
renounce for ever all worship and veneration of 
idols?” 

“We promise to do so,” said they; “and with 
God’s help we will faithfully keep our promise.” 

“ The struggle has already begun ; the ,Lord 
has hitherto given you strength to resist cour- 
ageously. But do you feel that you will be wil- 
ling and able to confess your faith in spite of suf- 
fering torture and death?” 

“We love God with our whole hearts ; we are 
ready to suffer and die for him.” 

“Brethren, what think you?” said Saturus, 


374 


The African Fabiola. 


turning to the confessors. “Do you judge them 
worthy of the grace of baptism ? ” 

“ The Lord himself has spoken. We judge 
them to be worthy.” 

The sacred waters of baptism fell upon the 
heads of the two catechumens amid the fervent 
prayers of the assembly. 

Immediately after Saturus began the Sacred 
Mysteries and the Omnipotent from his exalted 
throne in heaven descended upon that humble 
wooden altar. After having given the kiss of 
peace to one another, as was then the custom, all 
the confessors received the Body and Blood of 
Jesus Christ from the hands of the celebrant. 
Trembling with joy and love, the two neophytes 
approached the Eucharistic banquet in their turn. 
Yivia was so overwhelmed with happiness that 
she could not contain herself for joy ; while the 
rest were occupied in the recitation of the thanks- 
giving hymn she fell weeping into the arms 
of Felicitas. “O beloved sister!” she cried, 
“ how I long to see face to face in heaven the 
God who has so generously given himself to us. 
What a happiness to contemplate and love him 
with one’s whole heart and soul ! To be united 
to him I would willingly die a thousand deaths, 
were it possible.” 

As the dawn was approaching, the objects that 
served for the altar were restored to their places, 
and the confessors separated to take a little rest. 
Yivia and Felicitas were too happy to think of 


The Baptism. 


375 


sleep. They lay down together on a mat to 
hold sweet converse on the graces received and 
the thoughts that filled their glad hearts during 
that memorable night. 




CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE PRISON. 

From the moment he quailed under the with- 
ering glance of Tertullian, Olympius had lived 
only for revenge. Having tailed to induce the 
old governor to issue a decree for the persecution 
of the Christians, he addressed himself to the 
base task of arousing all the bad passions of 
Jtibal, and of urging him to the commission of 
the most cowardly of all crimes — assassination. 
He had made a confidant of the old mountain 
herdsman, because he found him to be as good a 
hater as himself. He used Sylvanus to stir up a 
sedition among the slaves, and to hound on the po- 
pulace against the Christians ; the savage shouts 
of the rabble filled his soul with joy ; but when 
he was about to touch the goal of all his happi- 
ness and ambition, to hold his enemy in his pow- 
er, Tertullian had evaded his grasp. All his 
hopes were, consequently, dashed to the ground. 

If he even but knew where Tertullian was con- 
cealed ! For he never doubted for a moment 
that fear was the cause of his flight. Rut he 
could find no clue to his hiding-place, and all his 
376 


The Pr ison. 


377 


efforts in that direction had proved abortive. In 
his vexation he refused to take food. When night 
came he flung himself on his couch and vainly 
tried to sleep ; instead of sleep the ever-present 
figure of the detested jpriest came to his eyes and 
made him fill the whole house with his bowlings 
and curses. Besides, he was terrified at the 
thought of Jubal’s resentment upon finding that 
he had been made a dupe and a tool ; he knew 
but too well how that youth usually treated those 
who had incurred his displeasure, and, he. con- 
stantly imagined he felt the cold blade of the 
dagger piercing his heart. The old man could 
bear it no longer, so he had recourse to poison to 
end his life. 

In the meantime the confessors had been trans- 
ferred to the city prison and were placed in a 
horrible dungeon that had to depend on one nar- 
row opening for light and air. The dampness of 
this place, together with the foulness of the at- 
mosphere, rendered the darkness still more hor- 
rible. Narrow cells honeycombed the walls of 
this dark prison, and into them the Christians 
were thrust with nothing save the bare floor to 
sit or rest upon. They were seldom allowed to 
leave their cells except at meal-times, when they 
were marshalled in a long gallery, half-lit by two 
-dingy lamps, whose feeble gleams revealed only 
squalor and mouldy walls that never saw the sun- 
light. They had no fire to warm their benumbed 
limbs, and ail human wants were turned into 


378 


The African Fabiola . 


suffering in that pagan prison. Such privations 
were especially irksome to a person of Vivia’s 
habits and antecedents ; it required all the pow- 
er of faith to enable her to bear them unrepin- 
ingly. Her greatest trial was separation from 
her child, and she confessed that this had caused 
her hours of hitter suffering. But* God took 
pity on her anguish. Her mother’s purse found 
means to have the child restored to her. “ From 
that moment said she, “ 1 became guite content- 
ed ', and my prison so pleasant an abode that I 
preferred it to any other.” Such a candid and 
child-like declaration fully revealed all the heart 
of a mother. 

Hilarian, having learned that the tribune 
treated his prisoners in a more humane man- 
ner, threatened to deprive him of his office un- 
less he obeyed his orders more carefully. Tak- 
ing advantage of this, the soldiers maltreated 
them more than ever ; and as they did so in the 
presence of the officer, it was natural to infer 
that they were only carrying out his wishes. 
Tired with indignation at such treatment, Yivia 
boldly remonstrated with him one day by asking : 
How dare you treat so harshly prisoners who be- 
long to Ccesar , and are reserved to grace the arena 
on the day of his coronation f Why do you re- 
fuse to allow them to enjoy in peace their short 
reprieve ? Will it not be to your credit if we 
are found in good condition when we shall be 
exposed in the circus ? 


The Prison. 


379 


"With meal-time, however, recurred the most 
painful ordeal of the whole day ; even in their 
cells they could pray at least. At night their 
cloaks partially protected them from the cold and 
damp, and they slept calmly under the watching 
eye of God. But whenever they went to the 
gallery to their meals they invariably found a 
crowd at the door waiting to enter and surround 
the table ; some were drawn by curiosity, but the 
majority came to enjoy the pleasure of mocking 
and insulting them. Drunken slaves, young 
libertines, and abandoned women jeered and 
howled the most obscene songs ; for, of course, 
only the lowest dregs of the populace came daily 
to enjoy and amuse themselves with such a spec- 
tacle. The confessors hung their heads in silent 
shame, or occasionally raised their eyes implor- 
ingly to heaven ; these ribald songs were more 
painful than all their other sufferings. They were 
torture unutterable to the chaste ears of Vivia 
and Felicitas, that had never before been pollut- 
ed by such sounds. They hid their burning- 
faces in their hands, while their tears not unfre- 
quently moistened the hard crust given them for 
food. 

On one occasion, however, the martyrs’ supper 
was spared the usual scenes of ribaldry and in- 
sult that we have vainly endeavored to describe. 
Along with the crowd there came into the gal- 
lery a man who, as soon as he entered, fell on 
his knees at the prisoners’ feet, and cried : 


380 


The African Fdbiola . 


a Glory to you whom the Lord has made worthy 
of suffering for his holy name ! Woe to me, a 
miserable sinner, to whom he has denied that 
glory and the eternal honor of sharing your 
chains ! ” 

This ma» was Tertullian. As usual, that 
trumpet-toned voice, the eagle-glance and lofty 
bearing, inseparable to him, awed into respect 
and silence even that vicious rabble of depraved 
men and women. But how came he thus sud- 
denly into the prison ? 

On the day after, the occurrences that had 
taken place in Carthage became known at Thas- 
cius’s villa. The young Cyprian requested that 
the news should be caret ully kept from Tertullian, 
lest he might, as he certainly would, have insist- 
ed on hastening to the assistance of his brethren. 
His suspicions were aroused by some hints 
dropped by a freed man whose occupation was 
to do errands between the villa and the city. 
The priest took him aside and demanded to be 
informed of the exact state of affairs — to know 
the whole truth. The freedman tremblingly 
blurted out the entire secret. 

At the recital of the indignities and insults 
heaped upon the Christians Tertullian’s noble 
soul was filled with anguish at the thought of 
having lost his opportunity of sharing the suffer- 
ings of the persecuted Christians. All his 
thoughts aimed at the topmost pinnacle of human 
effort and superhuman virtue ; he panted for the 


The Prison. 


381 


contest, for dangers that would afford full scope 
to his courage and indomitable energy, and for 
victories laboriously achieved. He longed to 
come to a death-grapple with paganism ; his 
dream of happiness was to be able on some grand 
public occasion to brand the vile system with in- 
famy, sarcasm, and contempt, and then to die 
with the sacred name of Christ, his God, upon 
his lips. Accordingly, without waiting even to 
take leave of his hosts, he returned to the city 
and went straight to the prison. 

All the martyrs were overjoyed at the presence 
of Tertullian, and ran to give him the kiss of 
peace ; Vivia and Felicitas humbly prostrated 
themselves to receive his blessing. As his eye 
fell on the plain mourning dress of the noble 
lady whom he had once so severely reprimanded 
for her vanity and display, it lit up with joy ; for, 
in spite of his severity, he had a kind heart, and 
liis first impulses were always the outcome of a 
naturally sympathetic and generous nature. As 
his gaze rested upon her for a moment, he seemed 
like an overjoyed father finding a beloved and 
long-lost child. But, as, if afraid of betraying 
his feelings, he took her infant into his arms, 
blessed him, and kissed him on the forehead. 
For the first time it was remarked that a tear 
glistened in Tertullian’s eyes ; that precious tear 
seemed toVi via to fall upon her heart like dew from 
heaven. Never had she felt so proud and happy 
in being a mother as she did at that moment. 


382 


The Af rican Fabiola . 


She was on the point of giving utterance 
to her feelings when the priest checked her by a 
forbidding gesture, and with his usual air of se- 
verity thus addressed them * : 

“ Blessed martyrs, you are on the eve of coro- 
nation by the hand of Almighty God himself, 
and hence it would be but presumption in me to 
claim any right to exhort you. I am emboldened, 
however, by the reflection that not only the 
trainers and overseers of the circus, but even the 
unskilled — nay, all who choose — are wont to shout 
and encourage by their cries the most accom- 
plished gladiators, and that from even the on- 
lookers useful suggestions have not unfrequently 
come. First then, O blessed ! grieve not the 
Holy Spirit who has entered the prison with you ; 
for if he had not come with you you had not been 
here to-day. And do you give all endeavor, 
therefore, to retain him, and thus to let him lead 
you hence to your Lord. The prison, indeed, is 
the devil’s house as well, wherein he keeps his 
family. But you have come within its walls for 
the very purpose of trampling the wicked one 
under foot in his chosen abode, as you had al- 
ready in pitched battle outside utterly overcome 
him and his human agents. 

“I have full confidence in your courage; it 
has been tried, and was not found wanting; 
nevertheless imprisonment, especially if it be 

* We do little more than give a synopsis of Tertullian’s 
“ Exhortation to the Martyrs.” 


The Prison. 


383 


protracted, is necessarily so irksome and full of 
trials that even the stoutest may succumb. Con- 
stant suffering, separation from home and kin- 
dred, being shut out from God’s sun and air, the 
entreaties and tears of friends and family who 
know not the glorious inheritance of Christ, the 
insults of the mob blindly mocking the chains 
that they should kiss with reverence had they 
not been carried away by prejudice and hatred, 
the brutality and maltreatment which you daily 
suffer at the hands of the military guards, and 
which would not be practised or permitted even 
against prisoners of war, make up a dread cata- 
logue of suffering, and fills the enemy of your 
souls with joy and hope. Blessed martyrs, put 
him to confusion by your unflinching patience; 
let him quake and tremble before you, let him 
fly as the serpent does from the snake-charmer or 
the fire, and so thwart him that he shall plunge 
into the lowest depths of the pit to hide his 
shame, discomfiture, and rage. 

“ Everything that could be an obstacle to your 
soul’s interests and detachment from earthly 
things should have been left at the prison gates. 
There and thenceforth you were severed from 
the world and all its affairs. Nor let this sepa- 
ration from the world alarm you. For if we 
reflect that the world is more really the prison, 
we shall see that you have gone out of a prison 
rather than into one. The world has the greater 
darkness, blinding men’s hearts ; the world im- 


SSI The African Fabiola 

poses the more grievous fetters, binding men’s 
very souls. Your prison is full of foul odors, but 
they cannot be compared to the fetid exhalations 
of the world’s lusts and vices. The world, too, 
has worse and greater darkness than any prison, 
and the host of its sin -bound prisoners is incom- 
parably more numerous. 

“ The pro-consul who summoned you to his 
tribunal is as much a mortal as the lowliest slave ; 
in a day or two death will breathe upon him and 
he shall fall into his own littleness and the obli- 
vion of eternity. The day will come when the 
haughty and powerful Hilarian shall stand trem- 
bling like a child before you. The judge of the 
world is our Omnipotent God, is Christ the con- 
queror of the world ; he is the just, all-powerful 
J udge, whose wrath and vengeance are eternal ; 
he alone is to be feared. Wherefore, O blessed ! 
call not this place a prison, but rather a holy 
refuge whither God has brought you for a little 
while, and of which he is the guardian. It is full 
of darkness, but ye yourselves are a bright light; 
my eyes see bonds and chains, indeed, hut my 
soul sees the blessed liberty of the children of 
God. Unpleasant exhalations are here, but ye 
are an odor of sweetness. The judge is daily 
looked for, but ye shall judge the judges them- 
selves. Sadness may be here for him who sighs 
for the world’s enjoyments. The Christian out- 
side the prison has renounced the world, but in 
the prison he has renounced even the prison also. 


The Prison . 


385 


It is of little consequence where you are in the 
world — you are not of it. And if yon have lost 
some of life’s sweets you but imitate the thrifty 
merchant who is willing to suffer present loss that 
after gains may be the larger. 

<£ Thus far I say nothing of the rewards to 
which God invites the martyrs. Meanwhile, let 
us compare the life of the world and of the pri- 
son, and see if the spirit does not gain more even 
here than the flesh loses. Your eyes are not 
pained by the sight of idols, nor do they obtrude 
on your daily walks ; you have no part in heath- 
en holidays, for you can neither see nor hear their 
mad orgies and celebrations ; you are not annoy- 
ed by the foul fumes of their idolatrous sacri- 
fices ; you are not pained by the noise of public 
shows, nor by the frenzy or immodesty of their 
celebrants; your eyes do not fall on the filthy 
stews of obscenity and vice ; you are free from 
the occasions of sin, from temptations, from un- 
holy reminiscences. The prison does the same 
service for you which the desert did for the pro- 
phets. Our Lord himself spent much of his time 
in seclusion, that he might have greater liberty 
to pray, that he might be quit of the world. It 
was in a mountain solitude that he showed his 
glory to the disciples. Let ns drop the name of 
prison ; let us call it a place of refuge. Though 
the body is cooped up and the flesh confined, all 
things are open to the spirit. In spirit, then, 
roam abroad and wander in imagination, not 


386 


The African Fabiola. 


along shady paths or colonnades, but on the way 
that leads to God. You will be in no bonds as 
often as you walk on that path in spirit. The 
foot feels not the gyve when the mind is in hea- 
ven. The mind encompasses the whole person, 
and whither it wills it carries him. But where 
thy heart shall be, there, too, shall be thy trea- 
sure. Then let our hearts be placed where we 
would have our treasure. 

“ For argument’s sake, blessed confessors, let us 
grant that even to Christians the prison is irk- 
some and unpleasant. But we were called to the 
warfare of the living God when we pledged our 
baptismal vows. Well, no soldier goes to a cam- 
paign laden with luxuries, nor rushes to action 
from a comfortable chamber, but from a rude 
and narrow tent where he has had to bear all 
manner of privations and hardship. Even in 
peace soldiers must inure themselves to war by 
toil and fatigue — marching, running, drilling, 
digging trenches, regardless of heat and cold and 
fatigue. All this is borne without a murmur for 
the sake of glory and fatherland. Blessed mar- 
tyrs, will you be less generous than they ? You 
are preparing for a noble struggle, where the liv- 
ing God will be your captain, the Holy Ghost 
your trainer, whose prize is an eternal crown, co- 
citizenship with the angels in heaven, and glory 
everlasting. The Lord invites you to, and now 
prepares you for, the conflict. He strengthens 
you by the ordeal of previous suffering and pri- 


The Prison. 


387 


vation, that, when the hour of battle comes, you 
may be ready and able to meet it. See how the 
athletes are prepared to fight and wrestle in the 
circus ; no luxuries or ease or delicate food for 
them ! They must fast and exercise and toil in- 
cessantly ; the harder their labors the stronger 
their hopes of victory. ‘ And they,’ says the 
apostle, 6 that they may obtain a corruptible 
crown.’ We, with the eternal crown before us, 
regard the prison as our training-ground, that 
the hour of trial may find ns prepared ; for virtue 
is acquired by patience and endeavor, and is lost 
by effeminacy and indulgence. 

“ We have God’s testimony that the flesh is 
weak; it has its terrors as well as its weaknesses. 
It may quake and tremble for a moment when it 
sees the drawn sword or hears the hoarse roaring 
of the lion. But God assures us also that ‘ the 
spirit is willing.’ Invoke its assistance to bear 
up against the weakness of the flesh. See how 
for a little glory and notoriety many worldlings 
have borne torments and death ! And this not 
only in the case of men, but of women too ; and 
I make the remark, Yivia and you other holy 
women, in order that you may pluck up courage 
and be worthy of your sex. The world has its 
heroines as well as its heroes : Lucretia, in the 
presence of her kinsfolk and neighbors, plunged 
the knife into her body to win renown when 
chastity had been lost ; Dido despised the flames, 
lest she should.be compelled to marry again and 


38S 


The African Fabiola. 


forget her love for her dear husband ; and so did 
the wife of our own Hasdrubal, who, when this 
city was burning, leaped with her children into 
the conflagration and perished with it, preferring 
death to the degradation and shame of seeing 
her husband a suppliant at the feet of the proud 
conqueror Scipio. Cleopatra, too, wooed the 
rage of the deadly asp sooner than fall into the 
hands of her enemy. But you may allege that 
death is less terrible than the fear of torture. 
Did the Athenian courtesan flinch under torture 
and betray the secrets of the conspiracy and the 
names of her confederates ? Even a woman of 
such a character not only triumphed over pain, 
but ended by biting off her tongue and spitting 
it in the tyrant’s face to show her determination 
and the futility of his torments. "Who has not 
heard of the religious ordeal to which the Spar- 
tans submit their children ? These are beaten 
with rods before the altar, and bear stripes with- 
out a groan amid the applause and exhortations 
of their parents and relatives. There can be no 
doubt that it shall ever be counted more honor- 
able and glorious to suffer mental than corporal 
stripes. But if so high a value is put on earthly 
glory that men should seek it at any cost and de- 
spise the sword, the fire, the cross, and the wild 
beast for its sake, assuredly these sufferings are 
but trifling where it is question of gaining a di- 
vine reward and a heavenly kingdom. If the 
bit of glass be so precious, what must he the 


The Prison. 


389 


value of tlie real pearl \ And is it too much to 
ask us to give as cheerfully and as much for this 
as others do for the imitation ? 

“ But let us put aside all these human con- 
siderations and incentives to glory ; they belong 
to a world to which we have bidden adieu and in 
which we have no interest. We also have our 
own history, and it reckons its heroes by thou- 
sands. From the hour. that Christ, the King of 
Martyrs, consecrated suffering and death for us, 
who are fed by his teaching and fortified by his 
example, pain and death have no terrors ; they 
find us ever smiling and always ready. The 
apostles, our teachers and fathers, rejoiced in 
their bonds ; rapt in prayer, filled with joy, and 
gazing upon heaven opened, Stephen scarcely 
feels the shower of stones that crushed him; 
Andrew gladly hails the cross so long and so 
ardently coveted. At Borne, Peter and Paul 
triumph over Kero’s cruelty, and gladly lay down 
their lives for Christ. Ignatius of Antioch so 
longs for martyrdom that he determines to pro- 
voke the fury of the wild beasts in case they re- 
fuse to grind him like wheat ; the aged Poly carp 
thanks God in gratitude for being brought to the 
stake, and is so overjoyed at his lot that his re- 
quest not to be tied to it is granted ; the virgin 
Tliecla rejoices to die for her Heavenly Spouse, 
and Sabina willingly sheds her blood for the 
faith ; two mothers (one of them a slave and 
your namesake) calmly witness the death of their 


.390 


The African Fabiola . 


seven sons, and exhort them to constancy, thus 
suffering a sevenfold martyrdom, like the mother 
of the Maccabees, before they received the glad 
signal for their own deliverance. What shall I 
say of the thousands who, for two hundred years, 
bore testimony to Christ and received the tri- 
umphal palm from his hands ? Recall their me- 
mories, beloved brethren ; they have marked out 
the path for you ; they have taught you how a 
Christian should answer before the judge and 
the tribunal, and how he should look upon their 
racks and their tortures. Like them fight the 
good fight ; like them resolve to suffer and to 
die for God and his holy cause. 

“ Far be it from me to tell you that blood 
enough has been shed for Christ ; that our ene- 
mies have drunk thereof to satiety ; that you 
have room to hope for your lives, if not from 
their clemency, at least from the weariness of 
slaughter. No, they still thirst for blood ; he 
who was a homicide from the beginning will 
never cry, Enough ! They have sworn to de- 
stroy the Church ; they will smite as long and 
wherever they find a forehead marked with the 
sign of the cross. Poor fanatics ! they cannot 
see that man’s efforts can never prevail against 
God’s will and work, and that by pulling down 
the stones they only enlarge, strengthen, and em- 
bellish the edifice reared by his hands. No, 
your judges will have no mercy ; they are now 
maddening with hunger and exciting the rage of 


The Prison. 


391 


tlieir lions and tigers, and you are destined to 
follow in the footsteps and share the fate of an 
Ignatius. Martyrs of Jesus, rejoice ! prepare 
yourselves by prayer for the hour of combat! 
God will be with you and will strengthen you in 
your trial. We, your less-favored brethren, will 
be there to witness and to celebrate } 7 our triumph. 
I, too, will be there, and will repeat the words 
with which I saluted you when I entered : 

‘ Glory to you , blessed martyrs , whom the Lord 
has made worthy of suffering and dying for his 
holy name % . Woe to me, a poor sinner , whom 
God in his justice has rejected from the lists ! ’ ” 
Having prostrated himself anew at the feet of 
the martyrs, Tertullian arose and departed 
through the crowd, that fell back to make way 
for him. Such was the effect produced by the 
man and his words that profound silence fell on 
the guards as well as on the bystanders. The 
martyrs felt wonderfully consoled, and returned 
thanks to God as if he had sent an angel to visit 
them in their prison. Vivia’s courage increased 
so wonderfully that she burned for martyrdom, 
exclaiming : “ May the hour for the final combat 
come soon ! Would that we were to be sent to 
the amphitheatre this very day ! ” 


CHAPTER XXV. 


THE VISIONS. 

From the very beginning God revealed liimself 
to man. In the Garden of Eden he made known 
to him his glorious destiny and laid liis command 
upon him. Adam was so accustomed to hear 
God’s voice that he knew it, and so, after his fall, 
recognized it as it came to him in the thicket, 
whither he had flown to hide his shame and 
nakedness. We read in the Scriptures that God 
spoke to Cain to upbraid him for his crime and 
to intimate to him his terrible chastisement ; also 
that he revealed his future designs on the world 
to Noah. The patriarchs, too, were honored by 
sundry messages from Heaven. Jacob beheld 
two mysterious visions. All the prophets have 
declared that : The word of the Lord came to me / 
The vision of Isaias , the son of Amos. Such 
are the prefatory words of the seer of the royal 
race of Israel as he prepares to announce the im- 
portant events of the future. The chaste spouse 
of the Blessed Virgin heard in sleep the heavenly 
messenger directing what should be his future 
course and conduct. 


The Visions. 


393 


Who does not know the marvellous visions of 
the Apostle St. John in the solitudes of Pat- 
mos ? The combats and sufferings of the Church, 
her joys and sorrows, her struggles and triumphs, 
her career through the ages, the apostasy of the 
nations, the conversion of the deicide people, the 
tyrannical, wicked, and bloody reign of the blas- 
phemous monster, Antichrist, are all present to 
that eye whose light is from above. The Lord 
makes him mount up in spirit even to the foot- 
stool of his throne ; the heavenly Jerusalem 
opens to him her twelve gates and shows him all 
her marvellous splendors ; he contemplates in his 
glory the Incarnate Word, whose eternal genera- 
tion he unfolds ; he hears the choirs of heaven 
repeating their glad songs of thanksgiving, praise, 
and love. 

In every age God’s friends have been favored 
by such-like communications or visions, as may be 
seen by the uninterrupted testimony of Church 
history. The grovelling and materialistic spirit 
of the world cannot conceive such things, and 
consequently sneers at them. It can tolerate 
nothing that trenches on the supernatural. But 
we are writing for Christian readers ; to them we 
will relate what is narrated in the “Acts of the 
Martyrs,” as they have been preserved and hand- 
ed down to us from ancient times. They are 
among the most precious monuments of the ages 
of faith and heroism, of the times when God 
multiplied prodigies, as well for the consolation 


394 The A ft lean Fabiola . 

of liis people as for tlie conversion of unbe- 
lievers. 

Our readers are aware that Vivia had two bro- 
thers, both catechumens, and both preparing 
themselves secretly, under the guidance of their 
pious mother, for the grace of baptism. Still 
they continued to attend the public schools of 
Carthage — such was their father’s wish — but 
they avoided all intimacy with their pagan 
schoolmates and kept aloof from their games and 
amusements. They listened attentively to the 
instructions given by their professors, took prac- 
tical lessons and exercises in what was then the 
chief study — namely, rhetoric — and then hastened 
home, where they w r ere sure to find plenty of in- 
nocent recreation and amusement, thanks to the 
solicitude and care of the gentle and pious Julia. 

The brothers found no difficulty in obtaining 
permission to visit their sister in prison. Far 
from exciting fear, it was thought that their mo- 
tive could only be to shake her faith, for her ten- 
der attachment to them was well known, while 
they were believed to be zealous partisans of the 
ancient worship. Meantime both youths profit- 
ed by their access to prison to encourage Yivia 
and to receive edification from her. 

On one occasion, when the elder brother had 
come alone to visit his sister, he said to her : 
“ Sister, a very strange report has been circulated 
to-day in the city ; it is said that the emperor has 
suddenly changed his plans and has issued orders 


The Visions. 


395 


for the stay of the persecution, and that those 
who, by virtue of the first edict, had been already 
cast into prison should be merely sent into exile. 
Father has heard this news with great joy ; for, 
in case it should prove to be true, he hopes to 
obtain your liberation from the governor, in con- 
sideration of your birth and youth.” 

“ God’s holy will be done! ” answered Vivia; 
“ my dearest wish is to die for his holy name, 
and I rejoice as the hour approaches when I shall 
be permitted to give him this last proof ot my 
love. Still, if it be his will that I should live for 
the consolation of my mother and the Christian 
education of the child that he has given me, I 
am ready to obey. Whether we live or whether 
we die , we are always his. But what can have 
given rise to this strange and unexpected re- 
port ? ” 

“ I cannot tell ; all I know is that it is all the 
news throughout the city. Some are glad of it ; 
for even among the pagans there are persons 
who are not devoid of feeling and have no desire 
to see blood spilt ; others — and they are the ma- 
jority — find fault and speak their minds openly ; 
it would even seem as if they intended to petition 
against the emperor’s clemency, as nothing less 
than cowardice and treason . From violent and 
wicked men of this stamp, who are nearly alF 
from among the rabble, only the very worst may 
be expected.” 

“ Well, brother, it matters but little how men 


396 


The African Fabiola. 


may fume and rage ; God’s omnipotent hand 
holds them, and they may not overstep the limit 
that he has been pleased to prescribe for them. 
As for myself, at the very first sound “of the storm 
I have had the most intimate conviction that it 
had been given to the powers of hell to assail us. 
Until God’s angel shall be sent to drive them into 
the bottomless pit, the evil spirits will continue 
their work of hate and revenge against Christ, 
their eternal enemy. For reasons which they 
cannot understand, and which will inevitably re- 
dound to their discomfiture and confusion, God 
has been pleased to permit them to shed our 
blood, and they will do it.” 

While uttering these words Yivia seemed like 
one inspired. 

“ Can it be, dear sister,” rejoined the youth, 
“ that God’s angel has visited you as he did Peter 
in his prison ? Has he revealed all that you have 
just now said with such positiveness ? ” 

“You know your sister ; does she deserve that 
the blessed spirits should leave God’s throne to 
come down to her ? ” 

“ Nevertheless, you believe you will lay down 
your life for Christ ? ” 

“ I do ; I have that sweet, nay, firm convic- 
tion. God has chosen me to be the first out of 
our family, and I bless him for it with my whole 
heart.” 

“ Who has told you so, then, since you avow 
that it was not an angel ? ” 


The Visions. 


397 


“ They who told me are in heaven ; it was my 
dear husband, Jarbas, and Angela, Christ’s holy 
virgin. Before she fell asleep in the Lord she 
assured me that before long I should shed my 
blood for the faith. Perhaps I may have said 
already more than enough ; let us not dispel our 
father’s hope. As for my mother, I am confi- 
dent she would gladly give her first-born to 
God.” 

“ I shall do as you please ; but then you must 
promise me what I am going to ask. I know 
you are in God’s favor ; beg of him, therefore, 
to make known to you by some vision if you are 
to suffer martyrdom, and let me know the re- 
sult.” 

“ I am the last of God’s handmaids ; but, in 
spite of my unworthiness, he gives me many 
proofs of his infinite goodness. I will do what 
you require of me. Beturn to-morrow and I 
will inform you of the result.” 

The night being now far advanced, one of the 
guards came and curtly told the young man to de- 
part, and to take heed in future not to remain 
so late, unless he should have the curiosity to 
spend the night in prison. 

But what were those especial proofs of love and 
kindness that God was pleased to give Yivia, and 
which inspired her with such unshaken confi- 
dence ? The acts of her martyrdom are silent on 
the subject, and hence we are fain to respect a 
secret established by her own reticence and hu- 


398 


The African Fabiola. 


mility. It is only through obedience that the 
saints divulge the extraordinary favors conferred 
on them ; their invariable wish is to hide the 
secrets of the king, to bury with themselves those 
secret confidences of God that belong rather to 
the next than to this world. 

Sufficient to say that Yivia, upon regaining 
her cell, prayed long and fervently as usual, and 
then fell into profound slumber. Hard by the 
pious Felicitas, ever tormented with anxiety for 
her unhappy father, unavailingly wooed rest and 
sleep. Suddenly a soft light shone in the cell, 
and she heard, as it were, the slight rustling of 
wings. The light centred full on the head of the 
unconscious Yivia ; but her face was aglow with 
gladness and joy. All amazed as she was, the 
slave concluded at once that the Lord had sent a 
messenger to her sleeping mistress. Hence she 
bent forward, and with bated breath listened to 
see if she could catch the sound of any voice ; but 
she heard nothing, and, after a few moments, the 
light disappeared. Yivia continued to sleep 
tranquilly. 

When she awoke it was broad day, and Feli- 
citas had gone down to prepare her mistress’s 
morning meal ; for, in spite of Yivia’s remon- 
strances, she persisted in waiting on her mistress 
as if she were in her own opulent home, and on 
this particular day she had a little feast for 
Yivia. The tender-hearted Pudens, observing the 
delicate condition of Felicitas, had made her a 


The Visions. 


399 


present of some cake, dried fruit, and a little 
wine. Just as she was on the point of return- 
ing to Vivia’s cell somebody called her by name. 

“ Where is my sister ? ” asked a well-known 
voice. 

“ She has not come down yet, but she will be 
here in a moment ; I am just going to her.” 

After a short delay Yivia and Felicitas came 
down together. 

“ Dear brother,” said she, “ to satisfy you I 
have prayed to God according to promise, and 
here is the vision I have had : While I was asleep 
our cell appeared to me to be suddenly flooded 
with a bright light, and a voice as sweet as an 
infant’s called me by name and said ; ‘ Vivia , 
behold ! ’ And I looked and saw a golden ladder 
of prodigious height; its feet rested on the earth 
while its top reached heaven, but it was so nar- 
row that only one person at a time could find 
room on it. Its sides were bristling with naked 
swords, sharp lances, knives, and hooks, so that 
no one could possibly go up any distance unless 
he used the utmost circumspection and kept 
looking up constantly. A horrible dragon was 
coiled at the bottom of the ladder. This fright- 
ful monster belched forth torrents of lurid flame 
from his gaping jaws, and threatened destruction 
to any one that would dare to approach. 

“ The priest Saturus, who was not arrested 
with us, but who had the courage to surrender 
himself voluntarily to the persecutors, came for- 


400 The African Fabiola. 

ward, fortified himself with the sign of the cross, 
and was the first to go up the rounds of the lad- 
der. I saw him climb up cautiously, yet fear- 
lessly, until he reached the top, when he turned 
towards me with a smiling countenance and out- 
stretched hands, and cried out : ‘ Yivia Perpetua, 
I await you ! Pear not ; you have only to be- 
ware lest the dragon bite you.’ ‘ In the name 
and by the almighty power of Christ, our Lord,’ 
I made answer, ( the beast shall not hurt me.’ 
As if afraitj of me, the monster immediately 
lowered his head as I prepared to mount, and it 
thus served me for a first step. Filled with holy 
confidence, I pressed on without faltering. When 
I gained the top of the ladder I beheld a spa- 
cious garden teeming with fragrance and flowers. 
A majestic old man with snow-white locks ap- 
peared in the centre. He was of lofty stature 
and wore the dress of a shepherd. Round about 
him I descried a countless multitude, all clad in 
spotless garments. This venerable old man 
called me by name and said to me : ‘ My daugh- 
ter, you are welcome.’ He then put into my 
mouth a small piece of curd, which I received 
with clasped hands and swallowed. All the by- 
standers answered, ‘Amen.’ Thereupon I awoke 
and found my mouth full of something far sweet- 
er than the purest honeycomb. The vision had 
disappeared, and I immediately relapsed into 
slumber.” 

“ Are you certain that you did awake at all ? ” 


The Visions. 


401 


interposed Felicitas ; “ I was watching you very 
attentively, and it seemed to me that you neither 
awoke nor stirred even.” 

“ Then tell me, dear friend, did you hear or 
see aught of that beautiful vision ? ” 

tc 1 heard no voice, but I saw the light that ap- 
peared to you ; it fell on your head as if it were 
a sunbeam coming through the vault of the cell.” 

“ Did the Lord reveal anything to you, also, 
dear friend ? ” 

“I am unworthy of such a favor. God’s 
angels do not speak to so undeserving a crea- 
ture.” 

u Console yourself, Felicitas; this vision is for 
us both. I have already told you, and I am firm- 
ly convinced, that we shall die together and 
shall go to heaven together.” 

The patrician youth had hitherto uttered no 
word, but sat listening in profound silence ; he 
now exclaimed : “ Dear sister, I now know and 
see that our name and family is to receive a new 
and an imperishable glory that will eclipse all 
the fame acquired in the past by civil and mili- 
tary honors ; I hail our heavenly nobility in you, 
glorious and happy martyr of Christ ! ” 

Flinging himself on his knees, he reverently 
kissed his sister’s hand and departed to convey 
to his mother the knowledge of the glad 'tidings 
he had just received. 

On the same day the confessors were again 
brought to the tribunal of the new governor, 


402 


The A fi lean Fabiola, 


where they were subjected to a second examina- 
tion; Hilarian made use of promises and threats 
in the hope of shaking their faith. lie remind- 
ed them that they had been condemned to be ex- 
posed to the wild beasts in the amphitheatre, and 
that the execution of the sentence had been de- 
ferred only to make the games decreed by the 
emperor more attractive and interesting. The 
unanimous answer made was that they were 
Christians ; that they would never sacrifice to 
the gods nor to the emperors ; and that they 
were ready and willing to die. . Furious with 
rage, the governor ordered the prisoners to be 
immediately scourged. Yivia and Felicitas were 
so cruelly beaten that their faces were torn and 
covered with wounds and blood. The holy mar- 
tyrs never ceased to confess and thank Jesus 
Christ. On their return to the prison they fell 
prostrate in prayer. 

During the following night the angel of the 
Lord again visited Yivia in sleep ; let us listen to 
her as she narrates this second vision to her mo- 
ther : 

“Yesterday while we were all praying 
it so happened that I unconsciously mentioned 
Dinocrates’s name. I was surprised at myself 
for having done so, because I had never once 
thought of him since my imprisonment. Tears 
came to my eyes at the thought of him and li'is 
sufferings, and I felt urged by some strange im- 
pulse to pray for him. I did so with the greatest 


The Visions. 


403 


fervor. The thought of Dinocrates haunted me 
during the whole day, and I repeatedly and 
earnestly recommended him to the mercy of our 
Heavenly Father. 

“ The instant I fell asleep, in the evening, I 
thought I saw him coming out of a dark place in 
which there were many other persons. He was 
tormented by a burning thirst ; his face was pale 
and disfigured. The hideous cancer that had 
tortured and killed him was still there. I would 
have spoken to him and gone to his assistance 
were it not that he was too far off and I could 
not approach him. Hard by him there was a 
basin full of clear and cool water, but its banks 
were so steep that a child could not reach it to 
quench his thirst. I felt the deepest compassion 
for him. Thereupon I awoke, bathed in tears, 
yet not without a hope that I might be able to 
alleviate his sufferings. Accordingly I besought 
the Lord to grant that favor, and I continued to 
pray until the night was far advanced and sleep 
once more fell upon me. 

“ God had pity on my tears ; the vision reap- 
peared, but a great change had taken place. The 
scene was still the same as before, but the dark- 
ness had disappeared and was replaced by a soft 
and pleasant light. Dinocrates appeared washed, 
smiling, and elegantly clad. There was still, 
however, a slight scar where the hideous cancer 
used to be. The banks around the basin had be- 
come so low that the child could easily reach the 


404 


The African Fabiola. 


water. I also noticed on the brink a little vial 
from which he drank, and when he had slaked 
his thirst he ran to play with some other children. 
I then awoke, and, in my confidence that his suf- 
ferings were now over, I knelt on my bed and 
gave thanks to God.* 

“ 0 dear Yivia ! ” cried the weeping mother, 
“ after God, how much gratitude do we owe fo 
the pious Rufina. It was she who baptized our 
little Dinocrates a few days before he died. But 
why was it that the dear child came to be de- 
tained in that abode of darkness and suffering ? 
What faults could he have possibly committed ? ” 

“ One must be so spotless to enter heaven ! 
You yourself have often told me, mother, of the 
searching ordeal and purifications required by 
God’s justice of the souls that depart out of this 
world. Perhaps Dinocrates was guilty of some 
slight fault after his baptism, and God . . .” 

“Enough, Yivia, enough! I only consulted 
the bias of a mother’s heart. I have offended 
God by seeking to fathom the mysteries of his 
justice. May he pardon me for my lack of faith ! 
Thanks to your prayers, my poor darling is now 
happy with the angels in heaven. God of good- 
ness and mercy, can I ever thank and bless thee 
sufficiently % And you, dear Yivia, who are des- 
tined to enjoy his presence before me, do not for- 


* This is taken from the Acts of St. Perpetua’s Martyr- 
dom, and clearly shows the antiquity of the belief in Purtra- 
tory. . & 


The Visions. 


405 


get jour poor mother at his holy footstool. May 
1 soon be united to you both in heaven ! But 
may God’s will be done. Farewell, Yivia, fare- 
well, beloved daughter. The day of your happi- 
ness is nigh ; 1 shall not return to disturb your 
retirement or to interrupt your prayers. At 
your entrance into the amphitheatre, where the 
crown I envy you awaits you, I shall meet you 
to bless and embrace you, and also to place in 
your hands the blessed and blood-stained veil of 
the virgin Potamiena. After it shall have been 
dyed a second time in the blood of martyrdom I 
shall pl&ce it in my bosom in memory of all that 
I loved most in the world.” 

Julia and her daughter remained long locked 
in each other’s arms and shed many tears. Such 
tears are not displeasing to God ; is it not he 
who puts into the heart that tender and strong 
love that binds together the mother and the 
child? 




CHAPTER XXYI. 

THE EYE OF THE COMBAT. 

Of all those who had been arrested on the same 
day for the faith there remained but Saturus, 
Saturninus, Revocatus, Yivia, and Felicitas. Two 
— Secundnlus and Quintus — had died in prison ; 
the others, to satisfy the mob, had been burned 
alive. The eve of the day had now come when 
the few remaining members of that glorious band 
of Christian heroes were about to win the im- 
mortal crown, the dearest object of their souls’ 
ambition. The pious slave alone was inconso- 
lable; in spite of Yivia’s kind words and assur- 
ances she feared she would be denied the glorious 
privilege of sharing in the next day’s combat. 
The governor had apprised her that she should 
be delivered before she would be put *to death, 
lie even thought of having her separated from 
her companions and putting her in a place by 
herself. 

During the previous night Yivia had another 
vision, which she related in these terms : 

u ft seemed to me that the Deacon Pomponius 

406 


The Eve of the Combat. 


407 


had come and had knocked loudly at the prison 
door and that I had run to open it. He wore a 
white dress ornamented with a countless number 
of gold beads. He immediately took me by the 
hand and led me along a narrow and rugged 
pathway. Breathless and exhausted, we at last 
arrived at the amphitheatre. Pausing in the cen- 
tre, he said to me : ‘ Be not afraid ; I shall be 
with you in a little while and will share with 
you the combat.’ He then left me there standing 
all alone. Knowing that I was to be exposed to 
the wild beasts, I could not understand why they 
delayed to set them upon me. Then there ap- 
peared a hideously ugly Egyptian, who came to 
fight me, accompanied by some other persons 
equally deformed. At the same moment I saw a 
band of young men coming to my assistance. They 
rubbed me with oil, and I found myself changed 
into a strong and stalwart gladiator. Just then 
there appeared a remarkably tall personage, clad 
in a flowing robe, down the front of which there 
hung two purple bands. He held a wand like 
that borne by the master of the games, and a 
green branch from which hung clusters of golden 
fruit. In a loud voice he commanded silence, 
and I heard him say : ‘ If the Egyptian gain the 
victory over this woman he shall slay her with 
the sword. If the woman be victorious over the 
Egyptian I shall give her the green branch.’ 
Then the Egyptian and I drew nigh to each 
other and the combat began. I flung him flat on 


408 


The African Fabiola. 


his face and put my foot on his head. The spec- 
tators began to applaud and my abettors raised 
the paean of victory. But I went up to the mas- 
ter of the games, who had smilingly watched my 
struggles and victory. He kissed my brow, be- 
stowed on me the green branch, and said : ‘ Peace 
be with you , my daughter ! ’ I then awoke with 
the conviction that I was destined to contend, not 
with wild beasts, but with Satan.” 

This as well as the preceding visions were writ- 
ten in extenso by Yivia herself ; at a later period 
they were published in the Acts of her Mar- 
tyrdom, and for many years continued to be read 
publicly in the churches. 

From the moment of her imprisonment the 
soul of this great lady burned with the desire of 
martyrdom ; this was her only thought, her sole 
desire, the subject of all her conversation, the 
grace petitioned for in all her prayers; she never 
ceased to return thanks to God for having permit- 
ted her to suffer for him. She never lost courage 
for a single moment, and nothing had been able 
to ruffle the peace and happiness that filled her 
soul. And yet she must have Buffered more than 
the other confessors ; she had exchanged an opu- 
lent home for a dark and loathsome prison ; a life 
of ease and enjoyment, with troops of slaves to 
wait upon her, for a life full of privations, and 
rendered more irksome still by the insolence and 
brutality of her jailers. But faith and charity 
made her strong — nay, made her glory in her 


The Em of the Combat. 


409 


chains and rejoice in privations, poverty, insults, 
and tortures. On the eve of her death she 
seemed scarcely able to control the tide of happi- 
ness that filled her soul and would fain com- 
municate itself, out of its very abundance, into 
the listening ear of her beloved slave, when her 
father suddenly appeared before her. 

“ Yivia,” cried he, as he cast himself on his 
knees and tore his white locks, “ are you aware 
that to-morrow is the day appointed for the 
games ? ” 

“ I am, father, and that is what fills my heart 
with holy joy. Yes, to-morrow your daughter 
shall be crowned by God’s own hand. Arise ; a 
father should not kneel at the feet of his own 
child.” 

“Are you still my child? Am I still your 
father? Unfortunate man that I am ! For the 
past month I have been begging you with pray- 
ers and tears to consent to live with me, for the 
sake of your mother and for the sake of your 
child. But you have despised all my entreaties 
and tears, although you were well aware that you 
were breaking the heart of an old man who 
loved you so much.” 

“ I know your affection, I pity your grief, and 
I love you with all the tenderness that a child 
can have for a father. But I am a Christian 
and cannot betray mj faith.” 

“Alas! always the self-same obstinacy and 
blindness.” 


410 


The African Fabiola. 


“Always the self-same fidelity and wisdom, 
and I owe both to the wonderful mercy of God.” 

“ But you, Yivia, whom I have always known 
to be so proud of your birth and rank, how will 
you be able to stand the insolent gaze, insults, 
and jeers of the vile mob ? ” 

“ Just as I have done already; for I have 
learned that true nobility consists in being de- 
rided and mocked for Christ’s name and sake.” 

“Well, but when you shall hear the lions roar 
and shall see them rushing into the arena, what 
will become of all this mock courage? Then 
you will tremble and grow pale with terror, I 
am sure ; you would gladly cry for mercy, but 
you shall not be able, for your tongue will be 
palsied by fear. Do you not remember how yon 
used to tremble like a child whenever you heard, 
no matter how far off, the howling of the wild 
beast in the amphitheatre ? ” 

“God had not then prepared me for the glory 
of martyrdom. But now that ho has given me 
his grace I can hear without fear the roaring of 
the lions, and I would gladly give them my body 
to be torn for his sake. You know not what in- 
vincible courage Christ infuses into his martyrs.” 

“ O Yivia, dear Yivia ! there is yet time. Bring 
not shame and sorrow on the last days of your 
unfortunate father. Have pity on us at least ; 
can your God be displeased with you for this ? 
You need but pretend to offer sacrifice in obedi- 
ence to the orders of the emperor.” 


The Eve of the Combat. 


411 


“As tlie daughter of Hanno I will never pur- 
chase my life by a dastardly deed or action ; as a 
Christian I will never practise dissimulation re- 
garding my faith.” 

“ If you will only allow me I will call on the 
governor and say that you ask for a short delay, 
for a reprieve of a few days. I will offer him 
money, every obolus in my possession ; nay, if 
necessary, I will kneel and kiss his very feet.” 

“ You shall do none of these things, for even 
if you did I would publicly declare my refusal to 
offer sacrifice and my desire to be exposed in the 
amphitheatre. Farewell, dear father, and may 
God give you the grarce to see the truth ! ” 

“ Your God is cruel and pitiless ; and I swear 
he shall never be the God of Hanno ! ” 

And the old man departed without casting a 
look upon his daughter. 

It was only by dint of doing violence to her- 
self that Yivia succeeded in checking her feelings. 
But the moment she found herself alone with 
Felicitas she gave free scope to the tears she had 
restrained in her father’s presence, and which had 
started to ’ her eyes especially at his parting 
words. After a little while she repaired to seek 
the priest Saturus, telling her companion that 
she would not be long absent and to wait for her 
in her cell. 

“ Father,” said she to the priest, “ I come to 
request that you call Saturninus and Revocatus, 
in order that we join in praying to God to hasten 


412 


The African Fabiola . 


the delivery of our sister Felicitas. She has 
shared our chains and sufferings; it is just that 
she share on to-morrow our triumph and happi- 
ness. I have the fond conviction that God 
will have pity on her sorrow and will hear our 
prayer.” 

Accordingly the four martyrs knelt together 
in prayer. Scarcely had they begun when Yivia 
heard a subdued cry of pain. 

“ The Lord has heard us,” exclaimed she ; 
“ return him thanks ; I must hasten to our sis- 
ter.” 

It was indeed true : the pains of travail had 
seized Felicitas a full month before her time, so 
that when the patrician lady returned to the cell 
she found her moaning on her pallet. 

“ Oh ! how good God is,” exclaimed Felicitas, as 
she saw her mistress. “ So I shall be able to die 
with you to-morrow. As your prayer for my 
speedy delivery has been granted, pray also that 
I may have strength enough to be able to go to 
the amphitheatre.” 

“ The Lord will perfect the work he has begun. 
Have courage ; I shall be strong enough to support 
you in case you require assistance.” 

“I know how good and kind you are. . . . 
But in case the governor should decide to post- 
pone the day of my execution ! If, in considera- 
tion of my paleness and weakness, the crowd 
should demand that I be removed from the 
arena! ” 


The Eve of the Combat. 413 

“Ililarian is not so compassionate, and the 
crowd that will come to enjoy the spectacle of 
our death-throes will have for us nothing but in- 
sults and cries for our blood.’’ 

“ Then I have nothing to do but to give thanks 
to God. On my way to martyrdom I shall 
carry no anxiety for the fate of my infant ; your 
pious mother will take charge of it, as she has al- 
ready promised me, and my little one will grow 
up near yours. Together they will learn to 
know and love our holy religion. . . . But, sweet 
Lord, how much it costs to become a mother ! ” 

A violent pang here surprised her into a scream 
of pain that was heard even by the guard at the 
door. 

A soldier drew nigh, and, peering into the cell, 
cried : “ What ! you weep and lament like a 
child. What will you do when you shall find 
yourself before the wild beasts in the amphi- 
theatre ? ” 

“ It is I who suffer these pains now,” mildly 
answered the slave. “ God’s justice requires 
that I, in common with all mothers, should bring 
forth in pain and travail. But in the amphi- 
theatre Another , whom you know not, will suffer 
for me, because I shall suffer for Him. Only a 
few days ago I was cruelly scourged until I was 
covered with wounds and blood — it may have 
been your hand that did it — and did you hear me 
complain ? ” 

The abashed soldier retired in silent confusion. 


414 


The African Fabiola. 


A short time after Felicitas was happily delivered. 
Yivia remained by her all day. Towards night- 
fall the good slave, feeling much better, expressed 
a desire to rejoin the other martyrs. 

For some time past the rabble that had been 
admitted to the prison while the confessors were 
taking their meals had been refused admittance. 
Hilarian had been obliged to yield to the earnest 
protestations of some senators who considered it 
a disgrace to the city and the empire that such 
wretches should be allowed to come constantly 
and insult persons who, though they might be 
criminals, still had a right to the protection of the 
laws against the hatred and blind passions of the 
rabble. The prisoners gave thanks to God for 
this, for among all their sufferings the greatest 
was to be thus paraded for the amusement of an 
abandoned, vulgar mob that annoyed them by 
their blasphemies and scurrilous songs. 

At this time it was customary, at least in 
Africa, to give what was called the free supper to 
criminals on the eve of execution. This, like 
many other usages belonging to the period, was 
a barbarous custom which would fain force the 
wretch to pretend to smile and enjoy good cheer 
as he stood trembling on the brink of a future 
without hope and of a death full of torture and 
agony. Hilarian gave orders for the observance 
of this custom in the present instance, and signi- 
fied his intention of assisting at this last meal of 
our martyrs. The people came in such numbers 


The Eve of the Combat. 


415 


to take a good view of those condemned to the 
wild beasts that the guards had great difficulty in 
restraining them. • 

The banquet was sumptuously served, and the 
table was laden with a profusion of the choicest 
and most exquisite meats. Massive cups of em- 
bossed silver shone between crystal flagons full 
of the rarest wines. Magnificent candelabra and 
bronze lamps shed a flood of light on all sides. 
It looked like a feast got up for the celebration 
of some great family rejoicing, or a grand ban- 
quet such as the rich prepare when .they desire to 
satisfy their pride even more than their sensu- 
ality But the grave and recollected appearance 
of the guests contrasted singularly with all this 
pompous display. 

“ God be thanked ! ” said Suturus, as he signed 
himself with the sign of the cross. “Amen,” 
answered the martyrs. In imitation of the exam- 
ple set by the priest, each one took only a 
little bread and some dried fruit. Hone par- 
took of the proffered wine. Even Felicitas, 
although weak on account of her recent delivery, 
limited herself to a little water. The crowd 
looked on in amazement at such incomprehensi- 
ble abstemiousness, and the still more incompre- 
hensible composure betrayed by the women. 
The governor, who had confidently expected a 
scene, became visibly embarrassed and began to 
regret having come, when a sepulchral voice at the 
lower end of the hall exclaimed ; 


416 


The African Fabiola. 


“The cowards 1 fear lias deprived them of 
their appetite. What a tine spectacle they will 
present to-morrow in the amphitheatre, pale, 
trembling, and half-dead with terror even be- 
fore the beasts will be let loose 1 ” 

Felicitas shuddered and closed her eyes. 

“Who calls us cowards?” said the priest 
Saturus. “ True, we Refuse to partake of dainty 
meats and generous wines; we need them not, 
like criminals who seek to stupefy themselves by 
gluttony. We can look death in the face; in- 
stead of being an object of dread it is our dearest 
wish and hope. Let the man who accuses us of 
fear come to-morrow, and he shall see if we will 
quail before the lions and tigers ! ” 

The manly tone in which these words were 
pronounced made a deep impression on the 
crowd. Pity smote the hearts of some, while 
even those who had come to insult and mock the 
martyrs felt restrained by a feeling of awe and 
respect. All were hushed into silence and con- 
tented themselves by gazing in silent wonder at 
the strange beings who were going to die and 
still could be so calm and self- con trolled. 

“Note us well,” resumed Saturus, “ so that 
you may recognize us on that awful day when 
Christ, our God, shall judge all men. To-day 
you blaspheme his name, because you know him 
not ; you have clamored for our lives because we 
refuse to adore your false and foul gods, and 
give all our homage to the true and only God 


The Eve of the Combat. 


417 


who reigns in heaven ; but, on the last day, you 
shall tremble before the angry face of that great 
Judge ; then he shall have only words of male- 
diction and wrath for you, and his omnipotent 
justice will hurl you into that bottomless pit 
where it has already bound the demons, your 
masters ; note us well, then, I say, for you shall see 
us crowned with glory and inundated with joy 
and happiness ; then God shall have avenged his 
servants and martyrs. 

“ There are some of' you who now seem to be 
moved to compassion, but who to-morrow will in- 
evitably applaud our persecutors and gloat over 
our sufferings. It would be far better for them 
to reserve such momentary compassion for them- 
selves. As for us, we need not your pity. From 
the day we enrolled ourselves under Christ’s 
standard we made him the sacrifice of our lives, 
and have ever since looked upon ourselves as vic- 
tims doomed to death. As you well know, we 
might have remained free by uttering one word ; 
nay, nothing has been left undone to wring that 
word from us in order to shield us from your so- 
called justice ; and we have not consented to 
speak that word. We have been loaded with 
chains, beaten, and tortured in every possible 
manner. Have you heard our lips utter a single 
complaint? We were happy and glad to suffer 
for Jesus Christ. For a whole month past we 
have longed impatiently for the day — the great- 
est of our lives — when we shall be permitted to 


418 The A f t lean Fabiola. 

consummate our glorious combat. Come, then, 
to-morrow, and you shall behold us marching to 
death as to a banquet or a long-wished-for festi- 
. val.” 

“ Yes, until to-morrow ! ” screamed the same 
voice that had previously spoken from the crowd ; 
“to-morrow, at the amphitheatre, to enjoy the 
sport! At last, Yivia, I shall behold your blood 
flowing and your bones ground to dust ! ” 

Felicitas fell fainting on the bosom of her noble 
mistress ; she recognized and knew that that was 
her father’s voice. The crowd dispersed without 
a word, while the guards, at a signal from the 
governor, led the martyrs into the interior of the 
prison. 




CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE AMPHITHEATRE. 

For many a day the great and busy city of 
Carthage had not presented such an animated 
scene of excitement and bustle. From all the 
country and towns round about the people flock- 
ed in to see the games, so that the vast amphi- 
theatre, where the martyrs were to be exposed to 
the wild beasts, was at a very early hour tilled 
to overflowing. All work was suspended ; the 
wharves were abandoned and silent; so that, 
save in the neighborhood of the circus, the city 
looked like one abandoned by its inhabitants at 
the approach of an enemy or through fear of an 
earthquake. 

The sun rose bright and fair ; it was the time 
appointed for the departure of the confessors 
from the prison under a strong escort. They 
had arisen a short time before cock-crow, and, 
when the altar that we had seen once before had 
been prepared, the priest Saturus had celebrat- 
ed the Holy Sacrifice. Saturn in us, Revocatus, 
Vi via, and Felicitas had received the Bread of 
419 


420 


The African Fabiola . 


the Strong as a preparation for their last jour- 
ney. Before setting out they knelt to receive 
the priest’s blessing, after which, as was then 
customary, they gave each other the kiss of 
peace. 

Saturus walked first. His beautiful and sweet 
countenance seemed to wear a fairer and nobler 
stamp than ever ; his eyes were often raised to 
heaven and beamed with a wonderful expression 
of happiness and joy. Saturninus and Kevocatus 
followed next ; from the movement of their lips 
it was evident that they were praying. Felicitas 
was so full of gratitude for her speedy delivery 
that she could not restrain herself, but burst out 
into acts of thanksgiving to God. By her side, 
with tranquil mien and firm foot, like one confi- 
dent of God’s protection and love, walked Han- 
no’s noble daughter, Yivia Perpetua. Her eyes 
were slightly bent towards the ground, not so 
much through a motive of shrinking modesty as 
from a desire of hiding from the spectators the 
holy emotions that agitated her soul and filled it 
with heavenly rapture. As the martyrs entered 
the arena she suddenly fell on her knees, say- 
ing : 

“ Mother, bless your child for the last time 
and rejoice with her.” 

A woman, still young, and evidently a lady, 
bent over and embraced her, saying : 

“ Yes, Yivia, your mother blesses you with all 
her heart. Courage, darling of my soul ; prove 


The Amphitheatre . 


421 


yourself worthy to the last of Christ our God. I 
shall pray for you during the combat.” 

So saying, she conveyed to her the veil stained 
with Potamiena’s blood. Yivia kissed it reverent- 
ly and put it on her head. Just then she recog- 
nized by her mother’s side the holy Rufina. 

“ Farewell,” cried she to her, u my darling sis- 
ter ! I am going to give my glorious testimony 
to Christ.” 

She embraced her tenderly. 

The spectators began to lose patience. . 

“ The Christians to the wild beasts ! ” shouted 
a thousand voices. 

“ Glory and benediction to the holy martyrs ! ” 

The utterer of this courageous exclamation 
arose to address the multitude, but a venerable 
old man made him a sign to sit down again. 
This was the impetuous and ever-ardent Tertul- 
lian ; the imprudent ardor of his zeal would have 
cost him his life had not the attention of the 
spectators been absorbed in watching the scene 
taking place at the entrance to the amphitheatre. 

An effort was made to compel the martyrs to 
don the costume usually worn by those who 
fought at the public games. For men this con- 
sisted of a scarlet cloak, and was the garment 
peculiar to the priests of Saturn ; for women it 
was a band around the forehead, and was the dis- 
tinctive badge of the priestesses of Ceres. 

The martyrs, however, positively refused to 
comply with this idolatrous ceremony : “ We 


422 


The African Fdbiola . 


are here,” said they, ‘‘simply to maintain our 
liberty untrammelled ; we are Christians, we have 
acknowledged it, and it was on that indictment 
that we have been condemned. We cheerfully 
make the sacrifice of our lives, but we have, as 
you must admit, the incontestable right of refus- 
ing to do whatever is forbidden by our holy reli- 
gion. We will never consent to wear the badges 
of your false gods, whom we abhor and abomi- 
nate. Let us be put into the arena just as we 
were when we left the prison ; we are ready to 
die, but not to dishonor our faith.” 

The governor was afraid to use coercion, so 
they passed boldly through the gate of the 
amphitheatre. 

“All my confidence reposes in God, and what 
can the power of men avail against me ? In their 
presence I have not been ashamed of Christ, my 
Saviour ; him do I glorify by my testimony. 
For his love do I enter the lists ; he lias promis- 
ed and will reward my agony with a crown. 
Oh ! how sweet to die for him who has died for 
me. 1 see the heavens opened ; Christ Jesus is 
gazing on me and encourages me with his glance ; 
my heart and my flesh are filled with gladness 
because the hour so long and ardently desired has 
come to sacrifice my life to him whom I love.” 

Sp chanted in her sweetest tones Yivia Per- 
petua, as she advanced into the arena. The hum- 
ble Felicitas, whom she led by the hand with all 
the affection of a sister, joined in this canticle of 


The Amphitheatre. 


423 


love. The amazed spectators looked on in silence 
at the marvellous spectacle of two young women 
rejoicing on their way to meet a frightful death. 

u He for whom we suffer is alone great, is alone 
powerful. The blood of his martyrs cry to him as 
in the beginniug did the blood of the innocent 
Abel. Though you revel to-day in our sufferings, 
you shall be made to tremble before the justice of 
the Omnipotent. We know that death shall 
\isher us into an eternal life of bliss and place us 
on glorious thrones to reign with him for ever. 
As for you, he will soon demand of you a rigor- 
ous account of your cruel and unhallowed deeds ; 
for his vengeance is terrible against those who 
blaspheme him and persecute his servants and 
friends in this life. And you, Hilarian, who, by 
an abuse of power of whose origin even you are 
ignorant, have judged and condemned us, our 
omnipotent God shall judge and condemn you in 
turn.’* 

So spoke Saturus, Saturninus, aud Kevocatus 
as they passed before the elaborately-bedecked 
balcony where the governor sat in state. Hila- 
rian grew pale with rage ; the people were filled 
with indignation. 

“Ply the whip on the insolent fellows,” cried 
a thousand voices. “Let the venatores* give 
them their deserts ! ” 

* The venatores were men armed with whips who took 
charge of the bestiarii — the combatants with the wild 
beasts— and spurred them on or punished them, according to 
circumstances. 


424 


The African Fabiola. 


“May Christ, who was scourged for our sake, 
be blessed 1 ” calmly replied the martyrs. 

Full of joy at being treated like their Master, 
they cheerfully bore the blows upon their naked 
limbs until they were covered with blood. 

“ Let loose the wild beasts,” now roared the 
mob, frenzied by the sight of human blood, 

“ Loose them all upon me,” cried Saturninus. 

This he said in accordance with a desire ex- 
pressed by him in prison one day when the con- 
versation fell on the different sorts of torments 
inflicted on the Christians ; on that occasion the 
good old man said he would prefer to be exposed 
to all the beasts in order that the number of his 
combats would be reckoned by the number of the 
wild beasts. ' Revocatus agreed with Saturninus, 
but Saturus said, with a smile, that had he the 
option, he would object to the bear — for whom 
he had a cordial dislike — but would be far more 
parted to a lion, tiger, or leopard. God heard 
and remembered their wishes on the day of com- 
bat. 

“ Saturus’s choice is mine too,” cried the un- 
daunted Revocatus ; “I hope they will set all the 
beasts in the amphitheatre on me.” 

» The tigers and leopards, with glaring eyes and 
opened jaws, seemed anxious to jump upon their 
prey. Goaded on by hunger and the lances of 
their keepers, they sprang up with a savage 
growl and put forward their bristling claws. 

Saturninus and Revocatus drew closer to the 


The Amphitheatre. 425 

cages of the wild beasts, and the signal was 
given. 

A leopard and a bear rushed upon them and 
sent them rolling in the sand. Their limbs were 
bruised and torn, and the blood burst forth on 
all sides. Every time they arose, a new spring 
and new gashes hurled them to the blood- 
stained ground. 

“ It is high time to pay attention to Saturus,” 
yelled the spectators, “ those fellows must have 
had enough.” 

As if to give variety to the spectacle, they set 
a wild boar upon him ; but the animal savagely 
turned upon his keeper and tore him open with 
his tusks ; he then flung Saturus on the ground 
but did not wound him. The boar then re- 
turned to his den, where he obstinately remained 
squatted and could not be forced to leave it again. 

“ A bear will do the business better,” yelled 
the crowd ; “ bring out the bear ! ” 

Saturus shuddered and had to summon all his 
faith to his assistance so as not to betray any 
signs of fear. But the bear that had rushed with 
so much fury on Saturninus and Bevocatus now 
refused to stir, and remained in his den as if 
held back by some invisible power. 

“ I thank thee, O my God, for having had 
compassion on the weakness of thy- servant.’ ’ 
This prayer of the martyr was heard only by 
Pudens, who then happened to be very close to 
him. This veteran tribune of the imperial army, 


426 


The African Fdbiola . 


whom we saw brushing away a tear at the home 
of Angela, and who since then had changed flie 
position of captain of the prison guards for the 
more humble one of jailer, had been much im- 
pressed by the confessor’s great virtues. His up- 
right, frank mind naturally received the truth the 
moment it appeared, and, consequently, only a 
few days before the martyrs were exposed in the 
amphitheatre, he had put his name on the list of 
the catechumens. 

Seeing that the bear persisted in remaining 
obstinately sluggish, he began to entertain the 
hope that the rest of the animals would also re- 
fuse to molest the man whom he looked upon as 
a father. 

“ God,” whispered he to him, “ does not want 
you to die yet.” 

“You are mistaken, friend,” smilingly an- 
swered Saturus. u Remember what I told you in 
prison : the first time the beasts will not touch 
me, but I am to undergo another ordeal, and 
then you Avill see how quickly I shall be torn by 
the fangs of a leopard. But as for you, remain 
steadfast in the faith, and let not the fear of men 
ever induce you to betray it ! ” 

“ Put Saturus to another trial,” said the gover- 
nor ; “ bring forth a leopard this time ! ” 

In an instant the martyr was rolling on the 
arena ; at one snap the animal had made such a 
deep wound that Saturus’s body was immediately 
covered with blood. 


The Amphitheatre. 


427 


“He is well washed at all events,” yelled tlie 
spectators, clapping their hands. 

“ Pudens,” said Saturus faintly, “ give me the 
ring on your finger.” 

Having dipped it in his blood, he returned it 
to him. 

“ Keep this always as a pledge that will ever 
animate you in the faith. Farewell, my friend ; 
may my sufferings, instead of intimidating, 
strengthen you. Remember our conversations ; 
you now see the verification of all that I have 
foretold you. Be strong, therefore, in the faith ; 
you will also one day give your life for Christ.” 

So saying he expired in the catechumen’s 
arms. Thus it came to pass that the priest 
Saturus was crowned first, in accordance with 
what the Lord had revealed to Yivia in her 
vision. 

“ Let the women now come forward,” said the 
governor. 

The two martyrs advanced and embraced each 
other. 

Paganism, as is well known, found delight in 
insulting modesty ; hence it very seldom hap- 
pened that female martyrs had not been made to 
suffer on that score. The Christians’ predilec- 
tion for that virtue was no secret, and, therefore, 
to bodily suffering was almost invariably added 
some outrage to their chastity. It could not be 
expected in a case like the present that our mar- 
tyrs would be permitted to escape a confusion 


428 The African Fabiola. 

and shame incomparably greater than death ; ac- 
cordingly at a preconcerted signal from Hilarian 
Yivia and Felicitas were stripped naked and en- 
closed in nets to he tossed and gored by a wild 
cow. God, however, espoused the cause of liis 
chaste servants ; they were so filled with the 
unction of his fortifying grace and presence that 
they took no note of what was taking place; 
nay, he so disposed the minds of the spectators 
when they perceived the weakly condition of our 
two heroines that they cried out against this 
treatment and declared they would withdraw 
from the amphitheatre in case of refusal. The 
governor dared not persist, so a loose and flowing 
garment was put on each of them. The instant 
the cow was let loose she sprang upon Yivia, 
lifted her into the air, shook her for a moment 
with her horns, and then flung her prone upon 
the ground. The youthful martyr, seeing that 
her robe was torn, modestly drew together the 
edges of the rent; she then gathered up her hair, 
which had fallen loose by the violence of the 
shock, so as not to appear to imitate women in 
distress, who usually wore their hair dishevelled 
in sign of mourning ; finally she adjusted on her 
head the veil given her by her mother at the 
entrance to the amphitheatre. From her calm 
arid smiling appearance she looked like a modest 
maiden attiring herself in the privacy of her 
closet previous to . making her appearance in the 
family circle. 


The Amphitheatre. 


429 


Suddenly her eyes turned to look for Felicitas. 
She descried her lying motionless and horribly 
mangled by the horns of the infuriated beast. 
Yivia hastened to her with outstretched arms, 
crying : 

“ O sister ! how came you to fall in this man- 
ner ? The combat has not yet begun, and you 
are all bloody ! ” Then in a louder tone : 

“ Why do you delay to let loose the wild 
beasts ? Why do you not carry out the sentence 
pronounced upon us ? ” 

“ No, no ! ” cried the. mob, “ that will do ; “ let 
the sword do the rest.” 

The popular will was all-powerful in the 
amphitheatre. 

Accordingly, Yivia and Felicitas, together 
with Saturninus and Revocatus, were carried to 
one of the vomitoria , or gates facing the public 
square. The priest Saturus having been pro- 
nounced dead, officially, Pudens obtained per- 
mission to take away the body. 

“ May the peace of the Lord be with you, sis- 
ter,” said a man close to the gate as Yivia came 
up. 

But she paused not. 

“ What ! do you not know Rusticus, the friend 
of your mother and of the holy Rufina ? ” 

“ Say, when shall we be exposed to the beasts ? 
What is the cause of the delay ? ” 

“ But, Yivia, you have been exposed already ; 
I saw how the wild cow tossed you into the air 


430 


The A frican Fabiola . 


and flung you on the ground. Do you not see 
on your garment the glorious marks of the or- 
deal ? ” 

The brave woman awoke to consciousness as 
from a dream and saw upon her person and 
dress the marks of a conflict endured so uncon- 
sciously that she remembered absolutely nothing 
about it. 

“Where, then, was she?” asks St. Augustine, 
in a panegyric, still extant, on the martyrs of Car- 
thage. “ Where was Yivia when she was attacked 
and mangled by an infuriated animal, being so 
unconscious of the assault as to enquire, when it 
was ended, when it would begin ? What saw 
she that she perceived not what a whole multi- 
tude saw ? What felt she not to have felt such 
violent pangs ? By what movement of love, by 
what ecstasy, by what mysterious draught was she 
transported, ravished, and inebriated by Heaven 
to make her seem impassible in a mortal and so 
delicate a body ? ” 

Faith alone can answer the question ; human 
wisdom can give it no solution. The perfect and 
ardent love of God and his omnipotent power can 
raise man above and beyond himself and make 
him insensible to all that may pass around and 
even within his own body. The history of the 
saints and martyrs furnishes ns with many and 
striking instances of this. 

Meantime, one of Yivia’s brothers had suc- 
ceeded in making his way to her to bid her a 


The Amphitheatre. 


431 


last farewell. Consulting only bis affection for 
bis sister and bis zeal for tbe faith, be strove to 
fly to ber arms, to declare himself a Christian and 
to die with ber ; the guards frustrated bis inten- 
tions, however, by hemming in the martyrs from 
the crowd preparatory to leading them away. 
Saluting ber brother and Rusticus with a sweet 
smile, Yivia bad only time to say: u Be stead- 
fast in tbe faith of Christ, the only true God. 
Obey bis precept* of loving one another; be not 
grieved at our sufferings. Tbe Church of him 
who died for its establishment needs to be 
watered with blood before it can arrive at full 
maturity and fruitfulness. Blessed are they 
who cast into its bosom the precious seed that 
multiplies children unto her ! ” 

The guards paid no attention to these words ; 
they were too anxious to get through with their 
work. 

At the farthest end of the amphitheatre stood 
the sjpoliarium , where the confectors despatched 
those whom the wild beasts had not entirely de- 
prived of life. There, too, our martyrs would 
have finished their sacrifice had not the mob vo- 
ciferously demanded that their execution should 
take place in the amphitheatre. Saturninus, 
Revocatus, Felicitas, and Yivia had, therefore, to 
retrace their steps to satisfy the blood-thirstiness 
and caprice of the mob. 

The sword did its work well and speedily in 
the case of all except Yivia ; she had fallen into 


432 


The A fi lean Fabiola. 


the hands of an inexperienced confeetor who was 
a novice in such bloody work. Trembling and 
beside himself, he was scarcely able to hold his 
sword or find the spot where to strike. Seeing 
him fumbling with the edge of his sword she 
said in her sweetest accents : 

“ Friend, you seem to be very inexperienced 
at your trade ; do you not see that your compan- 
ions have already performed their task ? Pluck 
up courage, then ; you need be no more afraid 
than I am.” 

“ Hurry up ! ” yelled the mob; “ do you want 
to keep us here until night ? ” 

The sword cut through the flesh and soon en- 
countered the bones. Yivia uttered a cry of pain 
and tottered, but immediately recovering herself 
and regaining her presence of mind, she guided 
to her throat the trembling hand of the bungling 
gladiator. 

“ That is the place to strike,” she said to him ; 
then in a louder tone: “Sweet Jesus, what a 
happiness to die for thee ! ” 

The sword severed the entire neck— the body 
sank slowly to the earth, while the soul, borne on 
angels’ wings, ascended to heaven. 

“ Glory to our gods ! Glory to Caesar ! ” rang 
out from the multitude. “Glory to Christ! 
Glory to his martyrs!” cried Tertullian as lie 
slowly retired from the amphitheatre. 

“ I am avenged at last ; I have looked upon her 
blood ! ” yelled the fierce Sylvanus. 


The Amphitheatre. 


433 


“ Noble and chaste Vivia,” murmured Jubal, 
u forgive me.” 

He drew nigh and looked silently on the dead 
body, while Julia placed in her bosom the veil 
steeped in the blood of her beloved daughter. 

A few moments’ later the amphitheatre became 
silent and deserted. The populace went to 
spend the rest of the day in dissipation and 
amusement, without bestowing a thought on the 
sad drama and scenes witnessed 1 in the morning. 




CHAPTER XXYI1I. 

THE ANNTV ERS ARY. 

Exactly two years after the events just related 
Julia was conversing with the holy Rufina re- 
garding the heroic and happy death of her be- 
loved child. With pious enthusiasm she declared 
she would gladly go to meet her in heaven, even 
though she had to follow in her footsteps and 
win the crown at the same price in the amphi- 
theatre. The humble freed woman had but that 
one aspiration and desire in her whole soul ; she 
yearned to be united to her Divine Spouse, 
the sole object of all her thoughts and affections. 
Vivia was no longer there to require her advice 
and assistance ; Revocatus, her brother, the friend 
of her childhood, the sharer of her sorrows, was 
no more. One sole tie bound her to life — at- 
tachment to the noble mistress who loved and 
treated her like a sister. 

A little slave-girl, almost a child, timidly drew 
aside the velum , or curtain, that served for a door, 
came across the room on tiptoe to the noblewo- 
man, and said : 

“Kind mistress, a poor old man, who looks 
4o4 


The Anniversary. 


435 


very tired and unhappy, asks to see you. I 
know that this day brings sad memories with it ; 
the noble Yivia was so very good ; I shall never 
forget all she has done for me, a poor little waif. 
I thought that maybe you would prefer to be left 
alone with Rufina, and then, again, I thought 
that, as you are so kind and condescending to 
those in affliction, I ought not to take it upon 
myself to send away this stranger without letting 
you know. I noticed that he trembled all over and 
big tears fell from his eyes. I felt pity for him, 
so I told him to wait a little while, that I might 
be able to come and ask you what I ought to do.” 

This slave was a Christian whom Julia had 
taken into her service shortly after Vivia’s mar- 
tyrdom ; she had an excellent disposition, with a 
slight tendency, however, to be over-talkative ; 
but that might be, and was, easily pardoned in 
one so young and so full of life. 

“It would 'have been wrong, Thesba,” said the 
noble matron, “ to turn away such a poor old 
man ; you say he is in want and in tears — these 
are two sacred claims to our consideration. Al- 
ways remember, my child, the lessons and exam- 
ple of your sainted mistress; you loved her, I 
know. Be always kind, Thesba, and always 
good to the poor and the afflicted. So you may go 
and bring hither this stranger.” 

“That is just what I told Jucunda ; if our 
mistress should ever find out that the door of 
her house remained shut to a poor person 


436 


The African Fabiola. 


through our fault, she is so anxious to help the 
needy and the suffering that I am sure she 
would scold us roundly ; so I came right away, 
without waiting to hear all the rest of what she 
wanted to say to me. You say I did right; I 
am delighted to hear it, for my happiness is to 
please you ; I am glad, too, for the old man’s 
sake, for I am sure that after having seen you he 
will be less unhappy.” 

So saying, she bent down to kiss her mistress’s 
hand. 

u That will do now, Thesba ; do not keep that 
poor stranger waiting in this way. You are a 
good girl, and I am glad to . be able to say so ; 
but you do not know how to moderate your 
tongue sufficiently.” 

Thesba pouted a little, as if to say: “ After 
all , 1 am no chatterbox. ...” 

A moment later the old man entered and the 
door-curtain fell behind him. 

“ Pity,” cried he, falling on his knees and 
bending his face to the floor — “ pity a poor, mise- 
rable man.” 

“ Good and venerable old man, I entreat you to 
arise and say what is your trouble.” 

“ In the name of Him who pardoned his mur- 
derers with his latest breath, and of her who died 
a martyr and now prays for us in heaven, pardon 
me ! ” 

“ Whoever you be, and if you have injured me 
in any way, I freely forgive you for Christ’s sake.” 


The Anniversary . 


437 


So saying she held out her hand to him. 

“Generous lady, I perceive very plainly you 
know not the guilty man at your feet. Oh ! no, 
my hand shall never touch the hand of Yivia’s 
holy mother.” 

He sobbed aloud and violently smote his 
breast. Seeing such deep grief, even J ulia herself 
could not restrain her tears. 

“ Brother,” said she gently, u for your words 
make it evident that you are a Christian, I repeat 
that; if you imagine you need my forgiveness, 
it is yours even were you the slayer of my own 
beloved child.” 

“ He who shed the noble Yivia’s blood in the 
amphitheatre is less guilty than I, and even his 
presence ought to cause you less loathing and 
horror. You see before you the hard-hearted 
and unnatural father who cursed his daughter for 
being a Christian, the wretch who implacably 
hated and persecuted her whom you loved so 
well ! ” 

The old man’s brow again smote the floor as 
he repeated in sobbing accents : “ Pardon, par- 
don and mercy ! ” 

Julia and Rufina could not help experiencing 
an involuntary feeling of pain as they recognized 
the hoary herdsman of the mountains, but it soon 
yielded to a deep feeling of compassion and pity. 

“ God be praised ! ” exclaimed the pious lady. 
“ He has had mercy on yo.u, brother, and his 
grace has finally touched your heart also. Both 


438 


The African Fabiola . 


martyrs have prayed for yon. Let us forget 
everything, then, except gratitude to Almighty 
God. Henceforth, good Sylvanus, let Vivia’s 
mother be regarded by you as a sister.” 

The old man looked up with eyes full of tears 
and gratitude. 

“ Noble and holy woman,” cried he as he 
clasped his hands, “ my sole motive for leaving 
my lonely mountain-hut was to ask your forgive- 
ness and to make ready to die in peace. But 
what bond can there ever exist between the pious 
Julia and her daughter’s life-long enemy ? ” 

“The same faith, brother, the participation of 
the same sacraments, and the hope of the same 
heaven. But be pleased to satisfy my curiosity 
on one point : how came you to become one of 
us?” 

“ I can refuse nothing to the woman who so 
generously granted me her forgiveness. I witness- 
ed the shedding of Yivia’s blood with savage joy 
and satisfaction, and — shall I say it? — I looked 
calmly and with dry eyes upon that of my own 
child, whom I then hated as intensely as I once 
loved her. My vengeance was satisfied ; I was, 
or at least I thought I was, happy ; it seemed to 
me as if my heart had been eased of the terrible 
load that weighed upon it for so many years, and 
that I should now begin to enjo} T peace and con- 
tentment in my desert home and among my 
camels — all the gifts of your generosity and 
bounty. 


The Anniversary. 


439 


“ I turned my steps, therefore, to the mountains 
I had left to execute my schemes of bloody ven- 
geance. Old Fatuma, who had been in the 
greatest anxiety on account of my protracted and 
unaccountable absence, received me with trans- 
ports of joy. I hardly deigned to notice her pro- 
testations of affectionate welcome, and, without 
even enquiring about the condition of things at 
home, I pleaded fatigue and want of rest although 
it was still early in the day. I longed for soli- 
tude; I felt restless and agitated ; I began to look 
upon myself with shame, and terror, and loathing. 
The two nights that had elapsed while I was on 
my way home had been passed in the most hor- 
rible dreams. I heard unearthly sounds, the mad 
cries of frenzied multitudes, the hollow roaring of 
wild beasts, like that which the lion utters at 
night in the desert. I saw them by hundreds 
rushing open-mouthed on their prey ; naked 
swords flashed, and blood smoked and ran in 
streams on the ground. Even when I awoke I 
could not dispel the horrible picture ; nay, it arose 
before me always, and, if possible, more vividly ; 
I quaked in every limb and a cold prespiration 
oozed from every pore. I called upon the gods 
and reminded them that it was for their sake I 
had sacrificed my own child. Yain words, that 
were not only not heard by those to whom they 
were addressed, but which ascended, like so many 
blasphemies, to the throne of that Eternal J ustice 
that I still so recklessly defied ! 


440 


The African Fdbiola. 


“ In the day-time I used to wander, like a mad- 
man, on the mountains, recklessly leaving my 
camels to stray where they would. My sole aim 
was to divert my thoughts from the horrid chan- 
nel in which they eternally ran ; but at every 
step I used to halt, terror-stricken. In the quiv- 
ering leaf, in the sound of the mountain torrent, 
in the very echo of my own sighs, I thought 
I heard an angry voice crying out in thun- 
der tones : Wretch ! what have you done 
with your child f In the evening I used to re- 
turn home worn out with exhaustion and suffer- 
ing. I had warned Fativma not to ask me any 
questions ; but as I often found her weeping, I 
began to suspect that she had been informed by 
some stranger of what had taken place at the 
Carthaginian camp ; more than once was I 
tempted by this surmise to plunge my dagger 
into her bosom ; her presence was hateful to me, 
and her sorrow a constant reproach. 

“ For seven long years I had borne the con- 
suming rage of the most intense hate ; I believed 
that the human breast could bear no greater tor- 
ment and agony than I did. I had gloated over 
the blood — all the blood I had thirsted for. And 
yet I became a thousandfold more miserable. At 
last 1 discovered what remorse was. It clung to 
me like the talons of. a vulture to its quarry. 
Remorse ! — the invisible witness that day and 
night accompanies the guilty, no matter how 
speedily he fly, that seats itself at his board to 


The Anniversary . 


441 


make little the crust he would strive to swallow 
as he trembles, that bends over his bed to fill his 
slumbers with the terrible representations of his 
crime. Remorse! — the implacable and ever-ac- 
cusing judge that thunder-strikes with eye and 
voice, the hard-hearted executioner that mocks at 
sighs and tears, that smites and torments with 
savage glee and riots in the throes and mortal 
agony of his helpless victim. Remorse ! I found 
out what it was at last ; I carried it with me like 
a barbed arrow rankling in my heart’s core. My 
eyes saw blood everywhere, while my ears rang 
eternally with savage yells and threatening voices. 
God was punishing me for the innocent blood 
that had been spilt, while I, instead of humbling 
myself under his hand, obstinately persisted in 
hating and blaspheming him. Pardon me, good 
and gentle lady, if I shock your faith and alarm 
your piety ; but I feel obliged to make known all 
the depths of my wickedness. The more did I 
feel tortured by remorse, by so much the more 
did my heart overflow with hatred and vent itself 
in blasphemous imprecations against Christ and 
his followers. I could have found joy in the to- 
tal destruction of all the Christians in the world ; 
I envied the happiness of the executioner appoint- 
ed to put them to death. How often, in my 
frenzy and blasphemous rage, have I looked up 
to Heaven and shouted : 0 crucified One! strike 
me dead if thou be God. If, as thou boasteth, 
thou hast the power, if thou wieldest the thunder, 


442 


The African Fabiola . . 


and death obeys thy vengeances, why delay 
the punishment of a tottering old man that defies 
thy wrath ? Poor blind maniac that I was ! 
Christ heard my blasphemies and mad defiances, 
and still the thunderbolt rested quietly in his 
hands. Blessed martyrs ! you were then kneeling 
before his throne and praying for pardon for your 
persecutor and murderer. 

“ One evening, during a fearful storm and while 
the mountains shook and re-echoed to the thun- 
der, as I was plodding my way homeward I de- 
scried an old man stretched on the ground at the 
foot of a tree. Having approached, I saw that 
his hands were crossed on his breast and that he 
stirred not, so I came at once to the conclusion 
that he was dead. I strove to lift him up ; he 
opened his eyes for a moment, his lips moved as 
if trying to speak, but he again fell back uncon- 
scious on the earth. That morning Fatuma 
had fortunately given me some dates and a flask 
of excellent wine. A few drops of this adminis- 
tered to the old man caused him to revive gra- 
dually. After having partaken of the fruit, he 
rallied sufficiently to be able to walk with my 
assistance, and in this manner succeeded in com- 
ing home with me. Fatuma made a blazing fire, 
and its genial warmth not only dried his dripping 
garments but infused life into his benumbed 
limbs ; in due time he recovered completely. 
Until then I had paid no attention to the stran- 
ger’s appearance ; 1 had looked upon him simply 


The Anniversary . 


443 


as some belated traveller who bad been overtaken 
by the storm in the mountains and had succumb- 
ed to exhaustion and fatigue. But now in the 
firelight his appearance struck me. I had cer- 
tainly seen this man before, but where or when I 
could not tell. I ransacked my memory in vain 
and could evoke only vague and confused sur- 
mises. At last I adopted the expedient of en- 
quiring how he came to venture all alone among 
those desert mountains ; this I did in the hope 
that I might be able to recognize him by his 
voice. 

“ * There are,’ answered he, with a pleasant 
smile, 4 many things in life so imperatively forced 
upon us that we have no control over them, and 
so must take them as best we may. In such 
cases the old and the young alike must quit the 
roof that shelters them. And so was it that I 
had to wend my way to these mountains in the 
hope that I might meet some hospitable family 
that would take pity on me and give me a place 
at their hearth. My strength failed me, and for 
two days I v^mdered about aimlessly uutil Heaven 
sent you to my assistance ; a few hours later you 
would have found only the corpse of an unknown 
stranger who had died of exhaustion and hun- 
ger.’ 

“ That voice I had certainly never before heard, 
and still as I listened it touched my very heart to 
its depths. 

4 * 4 Poor man ! ’ I answered, 4 1 suppose the gods 


444 


The African Fabiola. 


have deprived you of your children, else, no 
doubt, they would have come to your assistance 
and given you a home.’ 

“ 4 Many of them are, indeed, dead,’ rejoined 
he, 4 and the survivors are no better provided lor 
than myself. They are in chains, or, like me, 
are obliged to conceal themselves in the hope of 
seeing better days. May the Lord take compas- 
sion on them ! ’ 

44 Evidently this man was a Christian ; there 
could be no doubt of it, and I myself had 
brought him to my tent and had made him my 
guest ! In an instant my trembling hand clutch- 
ed my dagger hilt, my eye scanned the way to 
his heart. I was going to strike when the old 
man, baring his breast and casting himself upon 
his knees, said calmly : ‘ There are no soldiers 
here to wrench the dagger from your hand. 
Strike, strike Sylvanus ; the noble Jarbas par- 
doned you, the priest who taught him to have 
mercy pardons you as well.’ 

44 The dagger dropped from my hand. I 
thought I heard a double cry in my heart : 
Mercy for my father ! mercy for this man ! I 
was conquered ; I fell at the feet of the venerable 
Aruntius and besought him to pray to his God 
for me. 

44 4 She who was your daughter here below,’ said 
he, 4 and who now beholds the Lord face to face 
in heaven, has prayed for you ; she has lifted up 
the all-powerful voice of her blood ; nay, more, in 


The Anniversary. 


445 


the arms of Christ she has prayed that the father 
she never ceased to love should be restored to 
her. 5 

‘ ‘ I spent the greater part of the night on my 
knees at the old man’s side. His grave yet mild 
words not only poured light into my soul but in- 
fused new thoughts and feelings into my bosom, 
and with them a peace such as I had never known 
before. The more he spoke the more lively grew 
my sorrow and confidence, and a longing to hear 
and learn more about the God that I had so long 
blasphemed. But when he came to speak of 
Christ’s wonderful life, his meekness, his tender 
charity, his marvellous mercy for sinners, his 
sublime sacrifices for a world that scornfully re- 
jected him ; when I heard the history of his long 
and mysterious sufferings, and then that cry of love 
and pardon for his enemies that burst from his 
lips, I could restrain myself no longer and I cried 
out in my grief: ‘Wretch that I am ! I also 
hated him, and in my blind hatred clamored for 
innocent blood. O noble Yivia, and you, sweet 
child, whose name I dare not pronounce, pardon 
me, and your God shall be my God ! ’ 

“ Aruntius instructed me as he would a child 
in the doctrines of that wonderful and sublime 
religion which cannot be known without being 
loved. The aged Fatuma came and listened as 
often as her occupations would permit. Iler un- 
prejudiced soul opened itself unresistingly to the 
new doctrine, and we began to prepare ourselves 


446 


The A f? lean Fdbiola. 


by prayer and penitential exercises for the grace 
of baptism. Tlie old man was anxious to rejoin 
his children ; he had learned that the persecution 
was ceasing and that he might again resume his 
place among his flock. In vain did I conjure him 
with tears to tarry yet awhile in our mountains, 
to strengthen us still more in the faith. 

A bishop,’ replied he — for such was his 
dignity — 6 a bishop belongs to his church.’ Three 
days ago he gave us his parting blessing ; he had 
administered to us the sacrament of regenera- 
tion. 

“ God, I hope, has pardoned a poor sinner ; 
from his exalted throne he has seen my repent- 
ance and tears. And even you, kind and pious 
servant of the Lord — you have not spurned the 
implacable hater of your own daughter ; you 
have received and called me by the sweet name 
of brother, and forgiveness was in your heart 
even before I came to implore' it of your generous 
compassion. In the name of Jesus Christ, grant 
me a further favor — to bathe with my tears the 
hallowed resting-places prepared for their pre- 
cious remains by your hands.” 

So saying, the old man knelt and lifted his 
imploring eyes to Julia. 

A few moments found him prostrate on the 
sepulchral slab of the saints’ tomb. Deep was 
the old man’s. grief ; his frame quivered with 
emotion, and with broken accents he called on 
the names of Vivia and Felicitas : 


The Anniversary \ 


447 


“Pardon! pardon!” sobbed lie, while tears 
streamed from his eyes. He continued thus pros- 
trate at the tomb for a long time. Julia and Ku- 
fina dared not interrupt sucli deep and over- 
whelming grief. 

When he finally arose to depart he had recover- 
ed something of his usual composure, and thus 
addressed the patrician lady : 

“ Blessings upon you, kind lady, and may God 
reward you for all your goodness to me, the least 
and last of his servants ! I can now die in 
peace : I have been forgiven in heaven and on 
earth. JSTo doubt I have not many days to live ; 
I shall devote them to prayer and penance. I 
shall now retrace my steps to my mountain 
home, never more to leave it except to visit from 
time to time the venerable Aruntius, and to 
strengthen myself in the faith and in my reliance 
on God’s mercy.” 

Although pressed to rest for a day or two by 
Julia, the old man departed. Hor was he mis- 
taken regarding the nearness of death. A few 
months after, exhausted by mortification and com- 
punction, he died in the arms of the pious prelate 
who taught him to know and love the merciful 
and consoling religion of Jesus Christ. 

There remain but a few words to be said re- 
garding the other personages that have occasion- 
ally appeared on the scene of which we have been 
writing the history. 

Pudens did not long escape being pointed out 


448 


The African Fabiola. 


to tlie governor as a partisan of the new sect ; 
having been questioned regarding his faith, he 
boldly avowed himself a Christian, and gladly 
heard the sentence that condemned him to perish 
by the sword. In prison he found awaiting him 
Angela’s parents, both bound in chains for the 
same glorious cause. The same day also witness- 
ed the shedding of their blood. This was but a 
few weeks after the triumphant martyrdom of 
Yivia and Felicitas. 

Unable any longer to live in Carthage and look 
upon what would constantly bring to his mind so 
many harrowing recollections, Jubal continued to 
live in the country. E-eflection even more than 
years gradually tempered the fiery impetuosity of 
his character. Ever full of the thought of Yivia 
and of admiration for her virtues and heroism, he 
conceived a desire to study the tenets of a reli- 
gion that had raised her so much and so far 
above the weakness of her sex ; retirement had 
prepared him to be able to appreciate it, and so 
this votary of pleasure and debauchery, this cold 
contemner of every belief, became a model for 
his Christian brethren by his purity and holiness 
of life. Nothing was ever after heard of his former 
slave ; Afer died in the desert, and in all proba- 
bility died as he had lived — without remorse for, 
or a thought of, all the blood he had spilled. 

God accorded a long life to Julia. She was 
denied the consolation of seeing her husband 
open his eyes to the light, and this was for her a 


The Anniversary . 


449 


lifelong sorrow; still, her declining years were 
gladdened by the pious lives and filial devoted- 
ness of her two sons. They and the sainted 
Rufina stood by her death-bed, and buried her 
remains in the same tomb with Yivia. The poor 
orphan from Gaul survived her only a short time. 
As to Yerecunda and Tliesba, who only flitted 
for a moment before us, they never forgot the 
lessons and example of their holy mistress ; the 
first was judged worthy of receiving the virgin’s 
veil at the hands of the bishop ; the other mar- 
ried a freedman and became the mother of a 
large and pious Christian family. 

Tertullian, after having attained the greatest 
prominence and fame, relaxed nothing of his zeal 
and herculean combats. The ancient fabric of 
idolatry crumbled stone after stone under his un- 
remitting assaults. Heresy, too, slunk away and 
hid itself from the thunders of his voice and pen ; 
the world stood amazed at his learning and ge- 
nius, and the Church hailed him as her most in- 
trepid defender. But human genius, no matter 
how great it may be, is never safe from a fall ; 
while human knowledge, even though it approx- 
imate to that of God himself, may end in con- 
fusion. One day the powers of the heavens shall 
he moved and the sun shall he hid in darkness. 
Tertullian allowed himself to be led away by the 
illusions of pride ; he lost that faith on whose 
wings he had soared so high. This great man, 
whose fall causes us a pang of sorrow even after 


450 


The African Fab iota. 


the lapse of so many centuries, not only fell into 
error, but he attacked the Church that he had so 
often and so successfully defended, and thus be- 
came the champion of the most deplorable and 
absurd ideas. God, who permitted him to fall 
because of his pride — did he lift him once more 
into the light? The answer is still hidden among 
the many secrets of heaven. 

Cyprian never forgot the important lessons re- 
ceived in the villa of his father, Thrascius. Al- 
though a Christian in conviction and conscience, 
he gave ear to the seductions of youth, and for 
years continued to lead the life of a pagan ; but 
at last the divine seed broke through the clod 
that smothered it, and burst into flower and fruit ; 
from the moment of his conversion he made a 
vow of continency, sold his vast possessions, and 
distributed all his wealth among the poor. When 
a priest, and subsequently the Bishop of Car- 
thage, he undertook and achieved for the Church 
labors that would seem beyond the power of any 
man to accomplish. The sanguinary persecu- 
tion set on foot by the Emperor Decius, to which 
he was destined finally to fall a victim, brought 
into bold relief all his apostolic firmness and cha- 
racter ; from his retreat in exile he ceased not to 
watch over his flock, and by his exhortations to 
infuse strength and courage into those who suf- 
fered for the faith. His youthful imagination 
wove golden dreams of forensic glory ; nor was he 
disappointed. From the moment that he sought, 


The Anniversary . 451 

in the study of the Sacred Scriptures, the secret 
of the true sublime , he became master of an elo- 
quence that was manly, natural, and persuasive ; 
it was a torrent that swept all before it. There 
was, indeed, something of the African style 
about him, of the harshness and ruggedness of 
Tertullian, whom he always called his master , 
and whose writings he constantly studied, even 
while at his meals ; but apart from these faults 
peculiar to his age and nationality, he is looked 
upon as the leader and prince of Christian wri- 
ters ; more fortunate than Tertullian, he remained 
unswervingly attached to the unity of the Catho- 
lic Church. If, in his differences with Pope St. 
Stephen, he was sometimes wanting in modera- 
tion and docility, the ardor of his zeal, the ener- 
gy of his convictions, the fire of' his character 
must militate as an excuse ; at all events, his 
glorious martyrdom has wiped out all his short- 
comings. Accordingly, for sixteen centuries the 
Christian world, oblivious of Cyprian’s aberrations 
in youth and of whatever mistakes he may have 
unwittingly made in the heat of controversy in 
after-years, has placed upon his brow the twofold 
crown of learning and virtue. God bestowed on 
him that of martyrdom. 

St. Cyprian was beheaded in the year of our 
Lord 258, fifty-four years after Vivia Perpetua’s 
glorious martyrdom, of which event, consequent- 
ly, it is possible that he may have been an eye- 
witness in his youth. 


APPENDIX. 


The readers of the foregoing pages will be 
pleased, no doubt, to read the lessons of the Office 
for the festival of SS. Perpetua and Felicitas, the 
more so as they contain a long extract from the 
written account left us by the pen of our glorious 
heroine herself. The simple words and unvar- 
nished tale cannot but prove most acceptable to 
those who lovingly linger over the last pages of 
this book and the hallowed memory of its hero- 
ine. 

Under the Emperor Severus there were seized 
in Africa a number of young catechumens. 
Among these were Pevocatus and his fellow- 
slave Felicitas, Saturninus, and Secundulus ; 
also Yivia Perpetua, a lady illustrious by birth, 
education, and marriage, who had a suckling in- 
fant. She was about twenty-two years of age. 
She has left an account of her martyrdom, written 
by her own hand. “ While we were in the hands 
of our persecutors,” she says, “ impelled by his 
affection for me, my father constantly endeavored 
to persuade me to change my resolution. ‘ Fa- 
ther,’ I answered, ‘ I can say nothing else than 
that I am a Christian.’ Enraged at this declara- 
452 


Appendix. 


453 


tion, my father thereupon rushed at me to pluck 
out my eyes. He contented himself with abus- 
ing me, and went away foiled in his efforts and 
in the artifices of .Satan. A few days after we 
were baptized ; during my baptism the Holy 
Ghost gave me to understand that I should now 
look for nothing but bodily suffering. A few days 
later we were thrust into prison ; I was greatly 
frightened, because I had never before expe- 
rienced such darkness. Shortly after this the 
report was spread that our trial was going to take 
place. Haggard with grief, my father came from 
the city to see me and to shake my resolution. 
He said : ‘ Have pity, O my daughter ! on my 
white locks ! Have pity on your father, if I am 
worthy to be called father by you. Think of 
your brothers ! think of your mother ! think of 
your child, who cannot survive your death ! A 
truce to this foolish obstinacy, or you will kill us 
all. , My father said these things out of love for 
me ; failing at my feet and bathed in tears, he 
addressed me, not as 6 his daughter, ’ but as c his 
lady.’ I mourned over the white locks of my 
aged father, at the thought that of all my kin he 
would be the only one who would not rejoice at 
my martyrdom. To console him I said : ‘ No- 
thing shall happen except what God may ordain ; 
you must reflect that we belong not to ourselves 
but to him. , He retired full of sorrow. 

“ One day, as we were taking our repast, we 
were suddenly hurried to be tried. We came to 


454 


The African Fabiola. 


the court and were placed in the dock. The 
others were questioned and made their declara- 
tion. Then my turn came. All of a sudden my 
father rushed in with my child ; he drew me 
aside and entreated me, saying : ‘ Have pity on 
your infant.’ Hilarian, the procurator, added : 
4 Spare your father’s white locks ; spare your ten- 
der child ; offer sacrifice for the welfare of the 
emperors.’ I made answer: ‘I will not; I am 
a Christian.’ Then the judge pronounced sen- 
tence and condemned us all to the wild beasts, 
and we went down to the prison rejoicing. As 
I had been in the habit of suckling my infant, 
and had had him always with me in the prison, I 
immediately sent to demand him of my father. 
But my father refused to give him to me ; God, 
however, so ordained it that the child did not re- 
quire to be suckled, nor did my breasts pain me.” 

In this way did the blessed Perpetua continue 
the narrative of her sufferings up to the eve of her 
martyrdom. As to Felicitas, being eight months 
gone in her pregnancy at the time of her ar- 
rest, she was greatly alarmed as the day appoint- 
ed for the games drew nigh, through fear that 
her martyrdom might be postponed until she 
should be delivered. All her fellow-martyrs 
felt great sorrow, fearing that they would be 
obliged to leave on the way to a common hope so 
good a companion. On the third day previous 
to the celebration of the games they joined to- 
gether in offering their tears and supplications to 


Appendix. 


455 


the Lord. No sooner was their prayer ended 
than she began to be in labor. Hearing her 
moaning with the pain, one of the turnkeys said 
to her : “ If you complain now, what will you 
do when you will be exposed to the wild beasts 
that you pretended to despise when you refused 
to offer sacrifice ? ” She answered : “ At present 
it is I who suffer ; but then there will' be Another 
with me who will suffer for me, because I shall 
be suffering for Him.” She gave birth to a girl, 
who straightway was adopted by one of our sis- 
ters in the faith. 

The day of their victory had dawned ; the 
martyrs left their prison for the amphitheatre as 
if for heaven — full of joy, radiant with happiness ; 
and if they trembled it was from gladness, not 
fear. Perpetua came last ; the serenity of her 
countenance and the majesty of her carriage be- 
trayed the noble matron and the noble Christian. 
While on her way she kept her eyes bent to the 
ground to hide their brilliancy from the spec- 
tators. By her side walked Felicitas, full of joy 
at having been delivered in time to be able 
to encounter the wild beasts. The devil 
had prepared for them a most infuriated wild 
cow. When they had been enveloped in nets 
they were brought forth. Perpetua was put 
into the arena first. She was tossed into the 
air and fell prone on her back. When she came 
to herself and perceived that her dress was rent 
down the side, she drew it together, heeding 


456 


The A frican Fdbiola. 


ratlier modesty than pain. Having recovered 
from the fall, she bound up her dishevelled hair, 
for it would be unbecoming in a martyr to suffer 
in that plight, lest she might seem to be in mourn- 
ing in the hour of her triumph. Having re- 
gained her feet, and perceiving Felicitas lying 
bruised on the ground, she approached, gave her 
her hand, and lifted her up. They remained 
standing side by side awaiting another attack ; 
but the stern spectators were moved to pity, 
and both the martyrs were led away toward 
the Sanavivarian gate. So profoundly rapt in 
spirit and ecstasy had Perpetua been that when 
she arrived at that place she began to look around 
her as though awaking from sleep. To the 
amazement of everybody she said : “ I should 
like to know when we are to be exposed to that 
wild cow \ ” When she was informed of what 
had taken place she could not credit it until she 
perceived on her person and dress the marks of 
the ordeal through which she had passed. Then 
having summoned her brother and a catechuman 
named Rusticus, she addressed them saying : “ Be 
firm in the faith, let there be mutual love among 
you all ; and be not scandalized at our suffer- 
ings.” 

God had spared Secundulus the ordeal of the 
amphitheatre by taking him out of this world 
when he was still confined in prison. Saturninus 
and Revocatus were exposed to a leopard, and 
ended by being mangled by a bear. A wild boar 


Appendix. 


457 


was set upon Saturus ; then he was cast to a hear, 
but the bear refused to leave his den ; having 
thus passed unscathed through two ordeals, he was 
withdrawn. Toward the close of the games he 
was exposed to a leopard, and at a single snap 
was all covered with blood. Seeing him in this 
condition, the people, in allusion to this second 
baptism, shouted : “ Saved, washed ! saved, 

washed ! ” The dead martyr was then thrown 
among the rest at the usual place where persons 
were despatched by the sword. But as the peo 
pie demanded that the martyrs should be brought 
back to the centre of the arena, that their eyes 
might be feasted with the sight of their murder 
and watch the sword as it pierced them, the 
martyrs of their own accord arose and went to 
the place where the spectators would have them 
go. Before doing this, however, they embraced 
one another, so as to seal their martyrdom with 
the holy kiss of peace. Motionless and in silence 
they all received the death-blow ; as for Saturus, 
he was already dead. That she might have the 
merit of suffering some pain at her martyrdom, 
Perpetua uttered a cry as her ribs arrested the 
point of the executioner’s sword. She herself 
guided to her throat the bungling hand of this 
novice in the gladiatorial trade. Perhaps it was 
that such a woman could not be otherwise slain 
than by her own consent, for the unclean spirit 
feared her. 


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Neutralizing Agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: 

MAR 1996 





PRESERVATION TECHNOLOGIES, INC. 
1114 William Flinn Highway 
Glenshaw, PA 15116-2657 
412-466-1161 


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